


Find Your Way Back to One

by Sundaye



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Neil is Dramatic, Slow Burn, like the slowest burn, no graphic depictions of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:47:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundaye/pseuds/Sundaye
Summary: Neil and his mother, Mary, were already running from monsters when the Outbreak happened and destroyed modern society. In the wake of the Infection, the United States was split into two zones: Zone 1, a quarantined area where the rich and powerful are safe from harm, and Zone 2, a wasteland for the poor and outcast trapped with Infected where they have to fight every day to survive. After his mother's death in Zone 1, and with dangerous people closing in on him, Neil takes a risk and flees to Zone 2. There he inexplicably keeps running into the same group of survivors--a team of ex-Exy players who somehow stuck together after the Outbreak. Sticking with the Foxes could mean death for Neil if they follow through on their plans. But trying to survive in Zone 2 could mean worse.' "He is already dead," Andrew said suddenly. Neil turned his attention to the short man. Andrew's stare was particularly heavy as he considered Neil."You can't see it? He's been dead a long time, haven't you, Neil?""I don't know what you mean," Neil replied coolly."I mean you're not just running on fumes, you're past that point. You're just another Infected. Walking around thoughtlessly.""You don't know me." '





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work and it's unbeta'd so far so if you find any glaring mistakes please let me know! I'm absolutely in love with this series and I could not get over the idea of the Foxes versus zombies. There won't be anything graphic in regards to rape/sexual assault and I will put a warning beforehand if it is mentioned. Thank you for taking the time to read this! It's going to be a really slow burn but I'll try to make the wait worth your time.

Neil Josten trudged into the dark convenience store with as much care as a concussed, battered person could exercise. He called on years of instinct to keep his footsteps near-silent even as he maneuvered a field of broken glass under the emptied windows. In his mind he was chanting _food, water, medical, food, water, medical_ to keep himself focused on the task at hand.

Neil never used a flashlight on a supply run. His eyesight was better than most people and he was used enough to fleeing through the night to move efficiently through the darkness. Enough moonlight filtered into the store that he could read the torn signs and packaging littered across the floor.

Moving as quickly as he could, Neil went for the back of the store where most medical supplies would likely be stored. He needed clean bandages for a few serious scrapes and some sort of disinfectant. Any painkillers, decongestants, or antibiotics would be welcome for his personal stash, but the chances of finding any in an obviously raided convenience store were low.

Neil had found that by some unwritten law established between the still-living in Zone 2, people never took the entire stock of something in a raid. He wasn't sure why such forethought for others existed in an otherwise lawless land, but he was still grateful for it. His own belated introduction to the streets in Zone 2 ensured he was at least second (if not last) to any supply.

The moonlight that illuminated his way slowly thinned out as Neil made his way into the store until he was straining to see the hulking shapes of shelves and lumps of mysterious trash. His breathing was controlled but he couldn't help that it still fell heavier than usual. Blood or sweat itched as it dripped down the side of his face.

Blurry dark lettering on a white sign directed Neil towards the Pharmacy. Most of the shelves nearby were barren except for a few crumpled boxes. Neil didn't let his heart sink. He would take what was left here and make do as he always did. _Food, water, medical_ , Neil reminded himself.

Neil went up and down each aisle of the health & beauty section, pulling whatever looked useful from the shelves and stuffing them in a deflated duffle that hung from one shoulder. If he couldn't make out whatever was written on the packaging and he could deem it light enough to pack, he took it anyway. Better safe than sorry, and he could ditch whatever he didn't need later. He did find two rolls of clean bandages and felt relief ease some of the tension he'd been holding in his chest.

After finishing with the shelves, Neil climbed stiffly over the pharmacy counter. The shelves here were equally as empty and Neil swept through them quickly. He had basic knowledge of the chemical names of most drugs which helped him pick out what he needed. There was nothing of significant use left behind, but Neil did snag a bottle of allergy medicine which had at least minimal use.

Deciding that he'd bled the section dry, Neil moved on to the canned and boxed food section. The stink of spoiled food still lurked throughout the store and Neil doubted it'd ever fade. Nobody took perishables if they couldn't carry it and meat, dairy, vegetables, and fruit had been left to rot once the refrigeration had cut out.

"Just grab the booze and let's get out of here quickly," a low voice cut through the silence of the store. Not-so-subtle footsteps followed.  
Neil froze and his heart sped so swiftly it made him dizzy. He put the can of ravioli in his bag achingly slowly and tried to pinpoint the location the voice was coming from. He'd avoided running into living humans his entire time in Zone 2 and he wasn't interested in changing that.

On one hand, Neil was lucky whoever had joined him in the store was speaking and was obviously human. On the other, the motivations of the living were always much harder to ascertain in time to prevent disaster. After all, Neil had chosen to walk among the dead for the chance of fragile survival rather than stay among the living and face certain death.

"Don't worry, I'm sure nobody minds if we stretch curfew," a bored voice replied. It was getting closer. Neil crouched and clutched his duffel to his chest so it wouldn't swing. He ignored the painful protest of a few bruised ribs and stepped gingerly away from the two men approaching his aisle.

"You know it's stupid to stay out here too long. Especially at night."

"You know enough about stupid for the both of us. Stop panicking. Look." The footsteps stopped. Every muscle in Neil's body was primed to bolt. He smothered his breathing.

"Great, grab it and let's go," The first voice insisted.

Neil could make out a broken beam of light from a few aisles away. He moved cautiously in the opposite direction. Neil's eyes darted between the flashlight's beam and every exit he could logistically reach before getting caught. A rapid analysis later, he settled on the side door.

Glass clinked as the two men loaded up on whatever alcohol they'd found. Neil was halfway to the door when a crash ripped through the air and echoed around the store. A wet gurgling and the scratch of shoes shuffling across the linoleum made the hair on the back of Neil's neck stand on end.

"Company," the second man said quietly. The flashlight swung around rapidly.

"Shit, shit, shit," the first man cursed. "This is why we needed to move quickly."

The second man hissed for the other to quiet and the only sound that remained was the gurgling and shuffling and an occasional thud.

Neil was moving faster towards his door. He fumbled with his duffel to pull out the grimy crowbar he kept inside. _Stupid_ , Neil heard his mother's furious voice snap in his mind. _Always keep your weapon within easy reach_.

The only warning Neil had before the blow was a sudden blinding burst of light as the flashlight caught him in its track. It was enough for him to spot something swing down towards his head and he dodged on reflex. The hit caught him in his unbruised ribs instead and, despite losing some of its momentum, knocked the breath out of him. Neil thought briefly of the time he'd been hit by a car and slumped to the floor.

"F-fuck," Neil choked out. One of his hands clamped down on his side as if checking to make sure his innards weren't spilling out, and the other finally squeezed down on the crowbar in his bag. It wouldn't do shit. He didn't have the breath or coordination to even pull it out. _Stupid_.

An imminent second blow was aborted with a cry of, "Andrew, stop!" Neil recognized a battered Exy racquet, a long pole with a small net on the end and what looked like old, blackened bloodstains mottling the paint underneath as it froze above him. Neil didn't have the time to wonder what this odd choice of weapon was doing in the hands of his attacker. The man holding the racquet lowered the netting to Neil's chin and forced his head back. He squinted into dull hazel eyes.

"Living," the man, Andrew, decided. His face was so empty Neil had trouble understanding how such strength could be contained within such apathy.

"Who is he?" the man beside him asked. Neil glanced over at him and his blood went cold. He went from struggling to pull breath into his wrecked chest to not breathing entirely.

Kevin Day stood above Neil with the flashlight, scrutinizing him with darkened eyes. Even in the dimness of the store, with a bright light blinding him, Neil could recognize the older man--if by nothing else than by the unmistakeable '2' tattooed under his left eye.

Kevin and Neil came from similar roots. They'd watched a man being slowly taken apart piece by bloody piece by Neil's own father. It was not an experience or an interaction that anyone could forget. And where Neil had purposefully faded into obscurity, Kevin had risen to astounding fame as a professional Exy player before the Outbreak threw the world into chaos.

That made the other man Andrew Minyard, who was well-known if not for his impressive natural skill in Exy, or even his highly publicized antagonism, then by the fact that he had attached himself to Kevin like a flea after Kevin transferred to the same university as Andrew a year before the Outbreak. Neil didn't know much else about him aside from his connection to Kevin.

"Anyone home?" Andrew called quietly. Neil shook himself from his panic. Lights were dancing in front of his eyes. He narrowed his eyes at Andrew and pushed weakly at the Exy racquet still prodding at his face.

"Oh, there you are. Wasn't sure if I'd actually killed you," Andrew said.

Neil didn't respond. He was pressing a hand against his stinging ribs, gauging the damage. Bruised, not broken. He inhaled deeply and reassured himself when his breaths were clear. He still felt chills as Kevin observed him but forced calm as he stood.

A nearby thud and the familiar gurgling brought all of their attention to the shelves behind Kevin and Andrew. Kevin swung the light around and their other visitor was illuminated in the garish light. Everyone living in Zone 2 was used to gore and bloody death. The decaying figure that limped towards them was a familiar sight of molding flesh that dripped off of browned bones. A scabbed jaw hung loose and two lazy glazed eyes rolled grotesquely.

"Gawker," Andrew noted calmly, referring to the unofficial classification of the Infected. He carelessly adjusted his grip on the Exy racquet. Neil had his crowbar out and held it steady in front of him.

Another unwritten law in Zone 2: Any personal issues between the living were set aside during an attack by the Infected. You fought together until all Infected were put down and then you could settle your issues. It was a matter of survival.

"Just one?" Kevin asked. He held a length of pipe in his left hand and his knuckles were white with the intensity of his grip. His eyes searched the surrounding darkness and Neil almost rolled his own. Kevin wouldn't see anything outside of the flashlight's reach, his eyes too slow to adjust. It was a big reason for why Neil never used one himself. The other two reasons were easy detection by other humans, and difficulty powering any electronics.

"Yes," Andrew answered without looking around. Neil noted that with interest. He'd also caught onto the fact that this Gawker was alone before their confrontation simply by listening carefully. Others usually weren't as perceptive as Neil because they'd never needed to rely on their senses the way he had.

  
Neil waited for Andrew's move. It was obvious that out of the two other men, Andrew was the one prone to action--or more accurately, violence. Neil didn't need to wait long. With the same urgency as if swatting a fly, Andrew swung the exy racquet around brutally and it collided directly with the Gawker's head. Neil watched as the soft flesh ruptured and the eye on the side of impact sank into the collapsed head. The Infected dropped with a wet thud.

Andrew shook the exy racquet ineffectually to get some of the corpse goop off. Neil could spare only a twinge of disgust that that same racquet had touched his own face.

  
"That's settled," Andrew said. He turned his gaze back to Neil. Neil couldn't read anything in the nonexistence of Andrew's expression. A few seconds passed and Neil felt himself get tenser. He didn't let it show at all in his posture, not wanting the other man to see him as a threat.

"Let's go, Andrew," Kevin urged impatiently. He was moving the flashlight around the store again. His grip hadn't relaxed on the pipe. Andrew broke the staring contest he'd trapped Neil in.

"Run along, little rabbit. Don't let me catch you creeping around again. Not sure you'll get off so lucky the next time," Andrew dismissed Neil.

Neil couldn't sense any hint that the man was bluffing. Kevin adjusted the bag on his shoulder restlessly with a jerk of his shoulder. The bottles he and Andrew had collected earlier clinked.

Neil felt a stab of annoyance. It could have been the pain beating his patience. It could have been the crowbar in his hand making him more secure. It could have been the waning adrenaline making him weary. It could have been months of isolation and constant stress catching up to him. Whatever it was, it made Neil do something very stupid.

"I still need to pick up a few things," Neil said. He hadn't heard his voice above a frustrated or surprised whisper in months. It was raspy with disuse but carried his defiance just as well. He patted his duffel cheekily. If Andrew's face showed any sign of anger at Neil's impertinence it didn't show. His voice was just as steady as he spoke.

"Brave little boy," Andrew said. Neil didn't comment that the other man was not only several inches shorter than Neil but also certifiably kid-sized.

"Too stupid to understand how the world works. Lucky I don't have time to waste on more stupid people. My hands are full." Andrew waved a hand at Kevin who scowled in response.

"Do what you want, kiddo. Dig up whatever scraps are left in this place. When someone finds your body in a day, a week, a few hours--maybe they'll be nice enough to bury you with them. I don't care." Andrew held a hand out to Kevin who gave him the flashlight.

"We're going," Andrew told Kevin. He spared Neil a bored, two-fingered salute and went. Neil watched them until their light disappeared from sight.

Neil waited until he was sure he was alone again before rushing to finish gathering supplies. When he'd loaded up with all he could reasonably carrry he made for the door. Something caught his eyes as he fled.

Moonlight sparkled across a handful of glass and plastic bottles and Neil paused as he recognized different brands of liquor. There wasn't much left (Neil was honestly in disbelief that any remained), and what was left was a pitiful selection of cheap paint-thinning alcohol that no self-respecting person would inflict on themselves. Reasoning that alcohol was a useful disinfectant and anaesthetic, Neil blindly grabbed one of the smaller plastic bottles and shoved it in his bag.

Neil still felt sick after his meeting with Kevin Day. Neil felt the ghosts of heavy hands and blades as they dragged themselves out of the past and beat across his skin. It made his stomach churn.

The other man hadn't outed him immediately, and Neil's appearance had changed a lot since childhood. Being covered in dirt and blood had probably helped disguise Neil along with the darkness of the store and the distraction by the Gawker. Kevin probably hadn't even recognized Neil. The thin possibility was a lifeline for Neil's spiralling sanity and he pulled himself up with it.

Neil soothed his nerves and reminded himself to be cautious. He would not meet Kevin Day again. Like always, Neil would run. He would keep moving. His father wouldn't find him. He would survive.

Neil's head still throbbed, his breathing was rough, and he could still feel every point of pain on his body ache, but at least Neil was alive. At least he had food and water for another day.

* * *

 

Neil was convinced he'd seen the last of Andrew Minyard and Kevin Day. After recuperating for a night and licking his wounds, Neil had cleared the area in record speed. He traveled like a skittish street-cat, twitching at every slight noise and jumping from shadow to shadow. Every encounter Neil had with the Infected was minor (his instincts led him away from clusters) and dealt with swiftly.

It was a few weeks and several healed wounds later that Neil was proved wrong.

Neil's battered watch told him it was a little after 2 in the afternoon, a fact that the merciless sun above verified. What was once South Carolina was now a desolate wilderness abandoned by the States and structured society.

The heat that weighed down on Neil was unwelcome. In his annoyance with the constant sweat that dripped into his eyes, Neil had tied his hair back with a scrap of cloth torn from a ruined shirt. He knew his skin would burn terribly if he stayed out so he was scoping out any shady refuge where he could take a rest.

Relief came in the form of a line of trees that broke the monotony of the horizon. This region of Zone 2 was lush with plantlife, but Neil had somehow been travelling a very sparse stretch of land for two days. He generally kept close to the roads to stay on track from shelter stop to supply stop, but that also risked contact with other living humans moving through the area.

Neil nearly ran to the stretch of trees, his lungs heavy with the heat. His duffel was getting thinner each day but it still held his crowbar, some rations and med supplies, and the bottle of liquor he'd taken weeks ago. It thumped lightly against his back as he trotted through the unkempt grass.

The temperature of the air dropped as soon as Neil stepped under the thick canopy of the trees. He breathed out in relief and pulled the neck of his shirt away.

Something nearby snapped, and Neil was on alert immediately. His crowbar was in hand and he ducked behind the trunk of a tree for coverage. Peering up into the branches above, Neil contemplated the risks of climbing into their relative safety. It could hide him, or strand him.

Indistinct voices rose through the humidity and again Neil's reaction teetered between reassured and cautious. His hold on the crowbar didn't relax but he did reassess his decision to climb the tree. Living humans wouldn't search the trees for threats and they didn't have the single-mindedness of the Infected to stay at the bottom until Neil had to drop down. Neil could hide from whomever was passing through until it was safe to come down.

Neil glanced around to make sure nobody was within range to notice him scaling the tree before pulling himself up. When he was settled and confident that nobody would see him within the leaves without scrutiny, Neil turned an ear to see if he could make out what was being said below.

"Fuck, it's fucking hot out," Someone grumbled. The voice almost sounded familiar but the tone was off. Neil couldn't place it.

"I'm hot out," someone replied with remarkable ernergy. A thwack followed as if the speaker had been slapped lightly in annoyance.

"We wouldn't be in this heat if you hadn't pissed Coach off, Nicky."

Neil's heart skipped and then thudded hard in his throat. He couldn't believe it. Miles and weeks away and here was Kevin Day crossing his path again. He contorted his position in the tree branches to see if he could spot the man walking below.

"I just wanted to see if it worked!" the loudest voice cried out.

"Yeah, well, it worked. And Coach did not appreciate losing half his eyebrow, Nicky," Kevin responded.

"It's a good look for him. Makes him look less grumpy," Nicky pouted.

"Looks aside, we need to take a break or my feet are going to fall off. We're more than halfway there anyway," the third man cut in.

"We can't stop. It makes us prone. We should just finish this and get back to the group," Kevin argued. Neil couldn't help feeling glad that he hadn't run into everyone in whatever group Kevin was running with.

"Being exhausted and dehydrated will make us prone, too," Nicky retorted. "Just loosen up for a few minutes, and then you can squeeze that hardass of yours real tight again and we'll get what we need quickly and head back."

The group moved into view between the leaves and Neil watched a tall, bronze-skinned man flop down against the thick base of a nearby tree. He pulled the hem of his shirt up to mop sweat off of his face revealing an extremely toned abdomen with old bruising spotting his skin. He spoke and Neil realized the man was Nicky.

"Keep walking if you want. I'm sitting here for at least ten minutes," Nicky said.

"Fine," Kevin snapped. Neil watched him all but throw his pack down and drop dramatically to the ground. Despite his complaints about stopping, his skin was flushed with exertion and he fanned the front of his shirt to get some airflow over his skin.

Two short blonde figures followed them down. They were nearly-identical from Neil's perch, but where one was wearing a pale dirty t-shirt and shorts, the other was dressed in all black with long armbands over his forearms. The one in black had his back to Neil and had minor sunburn on the back of his neck. Neil knew one of them was Andrew, which made his doppelganger Aaron Minyard, Andrew's identical twin.

Minutes passed with Neil barely breathing above them. Their conversation was directionless and wouldn't have been worth Neil's time to eavesdrop on if he weren't admittedly starved for the sound of other human voices. Neil was surprised when, occasionally, he heard some German littered about in the conversation.

Neil'd grown fluent during a lengthy stint hiding in Europe with his mother and he never expected to hear it out here in Zone 2 in the States of all places. Neil was also fluent in French, and passable in Spanish, but he hadn't had much time to practice any languages out here.

The cost of Neil's survival meant total isolation. It had always been worth it to Neil, because survival was all he'd ever known. But the solitude was starting to wear on Neil since his mother's death. Neil and his mother had been on the run together for years before she'd gotten infected after the Outbreak. The events that led to her death still shook Neil even with a few months to dull their ache.

Neil didn't allow himself to relax entirely as he listened to the bickering below him, but he did find himself closing his eyes to hear everything they said. He found out the short blonde not wearing an excessive amount of black was Aaron and that he was either in a bad mood or always walked around with a colossal stick up his ass.

Rarely Andrew spoke and whatever he did say was always vague and alluded to obscure death threats. He had the same sturdy, dispassionate voice that addressed Neil when they'd first met. Neil should have harbored at least a slight grudge towards the man who'd hit him so hard it made sleeping on his side unpleasant for days, but he couldn't muster any ill feelings. Neil understood striking quickly to get the advantage over your enemy. He didn't like the man but he didn't dislike him for his actions either.

A sudden yell had Neil's eyes snapping open and he looked down to see what had caused the reaction.

"Roiders!" Nicky repeated. His face had dropped all of its geniality and was focused as his stance settled into readiness for a fight. Neil swore under his breath. Roiders were newly Infected who had faster reflexes than the living and a bloodthirstiness that didn't quit until they were exterminated.

The group of men below had formed up back to back in a circle with their weapons held ready. Andrew still weilded the beat-up exy racquet though it looked to have seen a cleaning since meeting the squishy head of a Gawker.

There were three Infected and they came at the group with harrowing speed. Neil's gut clenched as he fought between his fear keeping him in the tree and a stupid reckless desire to step in and lend a hand. The men below looked like they could hold their ground against one, maybe even two Roiders, but they were at a tactical disadvantage. The surrounding trees limited movement with their long weapons. Neil could jump the third Roider and give them a better chance. He wouldn't have to witness the massacre of the men below.

 _Don't_. Neil could imagine his mother ordering him urgently. Neil squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to go against all his instincts. He let the panic wash over him and then smothered it completely. This detachment was one practiced in his own childhood home. It calmed his heart and smoothed the anxious lines of his face. He breathed in deep and let the air out slowly.

The Infected were distracted enough by the living bodies below to miss Neil's presence above. He ran through movements and positioning quickly in his head. He was good at snap plans and decisions when in fight or flight. He tended towards flight but that was beside the point.

Neil noted a thick branch on the ground nearby. He noted the space between the Infected and the living. He noted Andrew raining ruthlessly efficient blows down on one of the Roiders and Nicky struggling with Aaron against another.

Neil wedged his duffel between a branch and the trunk of the tree. He weighed the crowbar in his right hand until he was satisfied with the balance then gripped it and swung it in his arm viciously with all his strength. His mark was almost perfect as he threw. The crowbar didn't sink into the Roider's eye like he'd planned (Neil blamed the unorthodox projectile) but it did deal heavy damage and distracted it long enough for Aaron to embed his hatchet in its skull.

Neil was already on the ground, shifting his weight so his ankles didn't take the brunt of the fall. He snatched the branch from the ground and was moving immediately. If one thing could be said about Neil it was this: he was fast. If his strikes weren't as powerful as Andrew's, they were swifter. They landed more frequently.

The Roider that Kevin had been having immense difficulty keeping at bay collapsed as Neil hammered its head in. The branch splintered with each blow and Neil's arms turned to jelly when the Infected finally fell. The other two Roiders had also been beaten and were nothing but dead flesh on the ground now.

Neil dropped the broken stick and focused on evening his breathing and feeling his arms again. He put his back to one of the tree trunks as he panted and watched the others recovering from the attack. When his gaze made its way to Andrew he found his scrutiny returned.

"If it isn't the little rabbit," the man commented dryly. He spun the Exy racquet in his hand and wiped the head of it along the grass.

"You know this guy?" Nicky asked incredulously between strained breaths. "Where the hell did you come from, kid? You just jumped out of the freaking sky."

Neil didn't comment. He walked over to where his crowbar had fallen and picked it up.

"Wait a minute, you're the kid from that store!" Kevin exclaimed. Neil shot him an unimpressed look despite himself. He realized then with certainty that Kevin did not recognize him. Not yet at least. The thought soothed him more than it should have.

Andrew moved closer, edging Kevin behind him as he looked up at Neil. Though Neil was taller than him, Andrew had a way of using his bulk to appear larger. Neil refused to back down from that empty stare. The man stepped so close their bodies were nearly touching.

"Need something?" Neil asked coolly. He wasn't afraid of the short man. He'd faced far greater monsters. He'd slept under the same roof as one. He'd shared dinner with more.

"Just wondering how we picked up some stray without noticing," Andrew replied.

"Sounds like your problem."

"It does, doesn't it? Tell me, rabbit. What's your name?"

"I don't see why I need to tell you."

"You don't. But you might want to. You wouldn't want to be a problem for me. I don't let problems last very long at all."

Neil felt the familiar press of a blade against his side and made himself go very still. He kept the spike of panic at the contact from his expression and raised an eyebrow.

"Is this how it goes?" Neil asked.

"Shit--Andrew," Nicky intervened suddenly. "This guy just saved our asses, don't--"

"Nicky," Andrew cut him off. Nicky fell silent. Andrew waited.

"Neil," Neil answered eventually, giving in to the fear that slithered through his veins. His face remained smooth but he couldn't stand the feeling of a knife against his skin again after all this time.

The knife eased up but Andrew didn't put it away.

"Neil," Andrew addressed him. "What brings you chasing after our tail?"

"Coincidence," Neil answered truthfully.

"Try again. I don't believe in coincidences."

Neil rolled his eyes. "Well you're going to have to start. I was taking a break here when you guys bumbled in making enough noise to warn every corpse within 10 miles where you are. I hid so I wouldn't have to deal with you and then our friends here decided to drop in for a chat."

It was the most Neil had said in a long time. He found that his throat was tight with the effort. He itched to grab his duffel and take a drink of water.

"I still don't believe you. And that's the end of your luck. I let you go the first time, but I don't believe in second chances. Bye, Neil."

"Stop," Kevin grabbed Andrew's shoulder. Neil saw the shorter man tense up so quickly it was like watching a mousetrap snap closed. Neil used the distraction and jerked away from the tree to put some space between himself and the knife in Andrew's hand.

"We can use him," Kevin said. Neil was shocked to find that his eyes were intent instead of complacent. The dissonance between Kevin's previous skittish behavior and this intensity was jarring.

Aaron had stopped watching the interaction and was back on the ground with his head lolling back. Nicky waited nearby with worried hands. When Neil looked at him, Nicky gave him a forced smile. Neil didn't return it.

"What would we do with such a scared child. He looks like he can barely stand," Andrew said.

"Coach said we need more people," Kevin insisted. "He's good enough in a fight, and it has to mean something that he's lasted this long alone."

"He's following us. I don't trust him."

"I'm not following you," Neil gritted out. Kevin shot him an annoyed look for interrupting. It was thanks to the unfortunate temper he'd inherited from his father that when provoked, Neil sometimes spoke without thinking of the consequences.

"We must be travelling the same route. This is the only main road running through the area. It's not unthinkable that we'd run into each other along the way. Look, just let me go my own way and you go yours and we can all hope to never see each other again," Neil offered.

"I still like my solution," Andrew admitted. He twirled the knife in his fingers. Neil took the subconscious flippancy as a good sign. He raised his crowbar in response.

"I'm betting I can take a few pieces out of you myself with your 'solution'. But if you want to try it..." Neil shrugged to finish the phrase.

Nothing changed in Andrew's face, but he tucked the knife away with a handy flick of his wrist.

"The child lives to annoy another day," Andrew voiced in that same bored tone.

Kevin took no time to speak up again. "Join us," he said. Andrew had already dismissed the conversation though he kept an eye on Kevin to make sure Neil didn't suddenly jump him.

"No," Neil replied automatically. Kevin's already constipated expression scrunched further.

"Why not?"

"I don't work with groups. Too messy."

"Ridiculous. Numbers are essential to survival out here. You need people to watch your back."

"From what I've seen, my back is fine. You needing others to carry you doesn't mean I do."

"Don't be stupid. You won't survive a month out here alone. You're going to run out of supplies, or you'll get caught by an Infected."

Neil felt a pang in his chest. The words reminded him too much of his mother. _Don't be stupid. Stitch this up quickly. We're moving again before the sun comes up. Come on. We're dead if you're too slow._

"I'm not going with you," Neil insisted. His voice was low--it refused argument. Kevin glared at Neil in furious silence but Neil waved his petulance away and approached the tree where he'd stashed his duffel. It still sat securely where he'd wedged it.

"So, Neil," Nicky said suddenly from behind. Neil looked over in surprise but forced down a flinch. "You're the inconvenience from the convenience store run."

"You didn't tell me he was this pretty, Kevin," Nicky remarked. His eyes went down and ran up Neil's body slowly. Neil didn't rise to the bait. Several days worth of filth, a shabby gray tshirt, and jean shorts so well-used their hems had torn up to mid thigh probably made Neil look like someone who'd lived out of a dumpster their entire life.

Inexplicably, Aaron groaned in disgust and rolled his eyes. It was the first time the stoic man had made a sound since Neil dropped down from the tree.

"Keep it in your pants, Nicky," Kevin replied offhandedly. He was back to fanning himself and closed his eyes to the heat, though the tense set of his eyebrows meant he was still irritated with Neil. One of his feet nudged the dead body of the Infected and he pulled it back in distaste.

"Funny," Neil said. He stretched his arms out and pulled himself up the first branch. The climb this time was harder after nearly blowing his arms out against the Roider.

Neil tugged his duffel out and made his way carefully back to the ground. Now that the group of men knew he was there he didn't want to take his chances getting stranded in the tree.

Neil rooted around inside his bag for a bottle of water. Every cell in his body ached with thirst. He wanted to chug the entire thing down but he knew better. Neil sipped from the bottle and savored the feeling of the liquid moving through his mouth.

Nicky let out a low whistle and wiggled his eyebrows when Neil glanced over at him.

"Seriously, Nicky?" Aaron ground out.

"Can't help it. These eyes like what they see. Honestly, kid, you should consider coming with us. We're not all as uptight as these three." Nicky jerked a thumb at Aaron, Andrew and Kevin who ignored him.

"Not interested," Neil said and took another sip from his bottle.

"I'm sure I can find a way to get you interested."

"Ugh, please, Nicky. Can you spare us from your gay shit for 5 seconds?" Aaron complained.

Neil spared the man a dry look. While relieved someone was trying to derail Nicky's persistence, Neil didnt' appreciate bigoted people who spoke out of their asses. Aaron didn't catch the look, instead focusing his ire on Nicky who slid him a sly glance.

"Hush, you. Your repressed sex life is showing," Nicky said.

"I'm not the one scouting out my future rape victim," Aaron shot back.

"Can you blame me? Look at him," Nicky gestured to Neil.

It happened so quickly it sent a spike of shock down Neil's spine. Andrew lunged at Nicky and now had him pinned to the ground. Neil noted the glint of a knife pressed to his side just under his arm. Though Neil couldn't read an ounce of animosity in Andrew's expression he recognized the resolve stiff in his shoulders and knew that the threat was genuine.

"Stay away from him," Andrew said to Nicky in a voice so low Neil almost couldn't hear. Distantly, Neil felt confusion at the sudden protective streak. It passed as he focused on the danger before him.

"Shit, Andrew," Aaron cursed. He sat forward but didn't move closer. Kevin watched on silently.

"I'm fine," Neil insisted. He wasn't sure why Andrew would turn on his own ally for the sake of a stranger but something soft inside him didn't want Nicky's blood on his hands. The statement had been tactless and rude but there wasn't any substance to it. It was tasteless banter.

"Doesn't matter. Nicky needs to remember to keep his hands to himself," Andrew replied steadily.

Neil understood bloodthirsty humans. He was familiar with the gleam in their eyes as they stared down their next victim. He knew the circling of their thoughts as they focused, blade in hand. He saw Andrew and knew him.

Andrew would follow through and gut Nicky bloody if someone stepped the wrong way. While Neil didn't understand his motivations he did understand his actions. He needed to find a distraction. Something that ranked higher in importance in Andrew's mind than violence.

"Neil, don't," Nicky whispered as if sensing Neil's intentions. He skin had turned pale and his eyes never left Andrew's face. Neil noticed his hands were shaking just slightly.

Neil's mind wound around and around. It came to him suddenly. He remembered Andrew's protective streak over Kevin. The way he always placed himself between whatever danger (be it the Infected, or Neil himself) and Kevin like a shield. Andrew didn't do that for Nicky or Aaron. Just Kevin. Whatever defensiveness he was feeling toward Neil was nothing compared to Kevin.

"Kevin," Neil said carefully. "Don't you need to get going?"

Kevin caught on surprisingly quickly. Or his single-mindedness had reminded him they had a job to do. Either way he acted as Neil hoped.

"He's right. We need to get moving. We've spent long enough here. Deal with Nicky later," Kevin commanded.

Andrew stayed still for several agonizing seconds. Nobody else moved.

"Andrew," Kevin tried again. "We can't be out here after dark."  
Finally the knife disappeared somewhere on Andrew's body and he straightened up.

"We won't be," Andrew said. He got up and turned to Kevin who was pulling his pack on.

Nicky didn't move until Andrew was well away from him. Aaron squeezed Nicky's shoulder in support as the other man got near.

Neil didn't know why nobody was reprimanding Andrew for his dangerous actions. The tension was still in the air but it had eased and Neil couldn't figure out why they went on as if being threatened by your comrade was normal. Maybe it was in Zone 2. Another reason Neil was not keen to work with other people.

"Well, Neil," Nicky said. His smile was shaky. "Looks like it's not meant to be. Shame. Maybe we'll catch you out here like this again sometime."

Everyone else was back to ignoring Neil. Kevin still seemed to seethe in disappointment at Neil's rejection. Aaron and Andrew obviously couldn't care less. Strange that the man would pull a knife for Neil then pretend he wasn't worth more than dust.

"Hopefully not," Neil admitted. He was going to steer clear of them if he spotted them again first. Nicky responded with a wry grin.

The group left. Neil took the time to drink a few more sips of water and have a small snack before doing the same. He hoped he'd find shelter before nightfall.

* * *

 

Neil's bad luck hit its peak a week later. To be fair he'd never been familiar with the idea of good luck. His life was one misfortune after another with some calm moments scattered between. This misfortune took the grand prize. It wasn't the first time Neil was sure he'd die. But it was the first time his mother wasn't there to pull his pieces together again.

As Neil bled out on the tin roof of a ramshackle mobile home he thought of his mother. The groans of Infected surrounding him below started to fade to white noise.

Neil thought of his mother's dark eyes, the way they took in everything. The rasp of her voice as she whispered urgent directions to him. Mary Hatford's family lived in the UK and when she and Neil were alone her British accent would rise subtly in her words. He recalled the way she pronounced his real name. The heat of her hands working over his skin to catalogue injuries.

 _Don't,_ He could hear her demand. _Don't give up. I didn't do all this for you to die on some redneck's vacation home._

 _I'm sorry, Mom,_ Neil thought weakly. _I got as far as I could. I followed your instructions. I'm sorry I couldn't make it longer._

Neil pressed his hand harder into the gaping wound on his side. It was fatigue and idiocy that got him in the end. He'd been caught off guard by a cluster of Infected and been impaled on a broken length of metal during the struggle.

The offending scrapmetal still dripped with Neil's blood below. He'd managed to scramble onto the rusted out mobile home he'd been squatting in but that was the end of the line for Neil.

Neil didn't believe in deities so he didn't pray. Instead he spoke to his mother, wondering if this is how she'd felt as she succumbed to the sickness.

The crack of a gunshot shook Neil from his reverie. It echoed painfully in his ears. He couldn't move except to turn his head to the sound.

Neil watched in disbelief as a group of men charged towards the mobile home, guns drawn and kicking with each shot. The noise was deafening. Bodies thumped against the walls of the structure below him, shaking him with each impact. Neil recognized a shock of blonde hair before his eyes finally closed.

Neil woke up slowly, mind already working to identify every ache and injury in his body. He felt weak, he couldn't work up any strength to move even a finger. Blood loss, he reminded himself. Instead of moving, Neil kept a careful ear out and tried to remember what had happened before he passed out.

Memories of gun-toting men and the blue sky over his failing body came back slowly. Neil realized with dread that there was at least one other person nearby, their clothes rustling as they moved around.

 _I'm alive,_ Neil thought in shock. _Who?_

Neil risked cracking his eyes open to slits to see if he could identify the person that had taken him in. He was in a room, he noted. On a bed. It was dark. A slight fair-haired woman was sorting through a first aid kit nearby.

Neil bit the bullet.

"Where am I?" Neil croaked.

The woman looked over. Her eyes were wide and her mouth had fallen open to a small 'o'.

"You're awake! Wow, I was expecting you to be out at least until tomorrow." The woman hurried over to him. She had kindly features, but Neil didn't let himself relax his guard.

"Where am I?" Neil repeated.

"Right, my name is Abby. You were found by some of our people a few miles away. You sustained a pretty serious injury, but after some rest you should be fine. We're in our base right now," Abby explained. She rested a hand on Neil's shoulder and his exhaustion was the only reason he didn't flinch away.

"Don't worry. You'll be safe here," Abby said with her gentle voice.

Neil had serious doubts but he didn't voice them.

"Why don't you rest. I'll grab David so you can talk to him. He's in charge of most things around here."

Abby left the room which gave Neil maybe a minute to plan his next few actions. He was still too weak to make a run for it. Abby seemed nice enough, but the nice ones could be worse than anyone else. A few feet away, Neil spotted a scalpel on a table that likely functioned as a workspace and improvised surgery table. If he couldn't leave, Neil could at least arm himself.

Moving was unbearably painful. Neil couldn't breathe when he finally got to his feet. Even his fingers throbbed in protest. Neil pushed through the agony and got to the table as quickly as he could. He didn't have much time left. Neil snatched the scalpel and pressed it flat to his palm, minding the blade. He was back in bed in seconds, sweating and breathing slowly to calm his fried nerves.

Abby reentered the room seconds later. Neil folded his hand under the blanket that covered him and smiled politely at her. A bulky man followed Abby into the room. This must be David. He had tattoos covering his toned arms in what looked to be styleized flames. His face was grim as he looked over Neil.

"Want to tell me what you were doing bleeding out on one of our safehouses?" David asked.

"I didn't know it was your safehouse," Neil said mildly. He arranged himself to appear meeker. Apologetic.

"Doesn't explain the bleeding out part. Kevin tells me he knows you," David said.

Neil's stomach bottomed out. So this was Kevin's base. Did he finally recognize him? Neil hadn't been using dye or colored contacts since entering Zone 2. It was impractical to keep up and he'd expected the chances of running into anyone alive to be low, let alone someone from his past.

"We don't," Neil insisted. "Know each other, that is." David waved the statement off.

"Semantics. He says you've run into each other on some raids before."

Oh. Neil restrained a sigh of relief.

"It wasn't on purpose," Neil said. David gave him a humorless smile.

"I'm sure it wasn't. But he says you're alone and you didn't want to join us. You that keen on getting yourself killed, kid?"

"I'm not a kid, and I was doing fine."

"Fine as in, dying alone on a roof surrounded by Infected?"

"Yes," Neil gritted out through his teeth.

David let out a tired sigh and ran a hand through his hair. The resulting dishevelment made him look like he needed a full week's worth of sleep. He probably did.

"Look, I know you can't trust people out here. Not at first. I don't expect you to. But at the rate you're going, you'll be dead within the month. You don't have to join us, but I've heard about what you did for Andrew and them in the woods. You know your way around an Infected and you seem tough enough to be of some use here. If you join us, it'll be a good deal for everyone. Consider it," David ordered, cutting a hand through the air to shut Neil up as he opened his mouth to protest. David's face softened incrimentally.

"Take it easy til you can walk without looking like a breeze'll push you over. Then we can talk about you staying or going or whatever," David offered.

Neil did consider it. He felt the weight of the scalpel in his palm and it calmed him. He did need time to recover. He could get back on his feet and maybe get some food out of his stay. It didn't mean it was permanent.

Neil nodded at David who returned the gesture. Abby looked relieved behind him. She took David's place as he stepped back to leave.

"Take it easy on him," David said before leaving.

"You're one to talk," Abby called back. She turned her attention to Neil.

"I'm just going to check over your stitches and make sure everything's in order, ok?"

* * *

 

Three days later Neil was anxious to be on the move again. His lengthy self-imposed solitude made his social skills rusty and speaking to anyone left Neil more tired than he'd like to admit. There were at least 12 people at the camp that Neil knew of by name.

The only visitors Neil received while stuck on bed-rest were Abby, David, and a young woman named Renee. She occasionally helped Abby take inventory and stock the medical supplies stored in the makeshift clinic.

Renee was a fit, quiet woman whose conservative attire was at odds with her bleached-white shoulder-length hair highlighted at the tips with various pastel colors. Renee's calm demeanor put Neil on edge every time the two of them were left alone. Neil hid his unease as well as he could and found solace in the fact that she didn't chat with him as much as Abby tended to. She seemed content enough to give Neil a simple greeting and worked efficiently and silently.

David would only ever drop in to say a short hello and check that Neil hadn't ghosted in the middle of the night. Behind his gruff attitude, Neil could tell he was a soft man who had a penchant for picking up strays. Neil's own presence was testament to that. David's kindheartedness made Neil slightly guilty each time he felt relieved at the brevity of his visits. He knew that David didn't mean him harm (not yet at least), but Neil could never truly rid himself of his distrust of men his father's age.

Neil learned from Abby that David was actually the David Wymack who used to coach an NCAA Class I Exy team. Neil learned from Renee that almost everyone referred to him by his last name, Wymack, or Coach. His team, the Palmetto State Foxes, had been notorious as the worst team in their league, mainly because of the ragtag pool of troubled kids that Wymack recruited from and their aversion to team cooperation.

Everyone currently at the camp had been affilliated in some way to the Foxes either as ex-players or as staff. Somehow they'd chosen to stick together during the Outbreak instead of finding their ways back to their families and homes. It wasn't a great surprise to Neil, considering both the unlikelihood of a happy family home for the players to return to, and the chaos that broke modern society for over a year in the Outbreak's aftermath.

It was unsettling to Neil that the events in his life had unfolded to lead him into a camp of Exy players. Neil had played little league Exy as a kid, and he still remembered it as the only bright thing in his unpleasant childhood. His mother used to take him to practice out of town and out of the extensive reach of his father.

The freedom of the Exy court, its separation from the outside world pinned under Neil's father's thumb, had given Neil a taste of the life he could have had if he'd been raised by a better man. It had been exhilarating, limitless. Any violence on the court wasn't based in cruelty as Neil had always known, but in competition and instinct. He could push himself and interact with others in a way that made sense.

After smuggling herself and Neil out of their house when Neil was a child, Mary refused to let Neil entertain the fanciful dream of Exy anymore. She needed him focused on the bare essentials of survival and would beat him bloody if he even mentioned the sport in passing. Neil had never shaken his desire to play, though. Even now, just being near people from the world of Exy made his heart ache with need.

When his mother died, Neil had staggered around numbly until finally pulling himself together and acquiring a solid new ID. Miraculous news that his father had been imprisoned on minor charges made Neil Josten bold enough to attend high school in some backwater nothing town. He was stupid enough to sneak into the school's pitiful Exy practices just for the chance to see the sport played once more.

It took only a week of watching for Neil's resolve to crumble and he broke into the school's measly court to run the drills he'd been observing. He was frustratingly terrible, but that didn't matter in the wake of the thrill that hummed through his body as he played. Neil had almost two incredible months of secret Exy practices before finding out that his father had been released from prison on parole. Neil ran that night, scattering the signs of his existence in the town to the wind and crossing over to Zone 2.

Neil refrained from peppering Abby and Renee with Exy questions only barely. He used his tiredness from hearing Abby chatter on and on, and his discomfort with Renee to stop himself from giving his interest away.

The second time Abby stopped in to check on Neil he'd inquired if she knew where his duffel had ended up. Neil didn't have many personal possessions. He'd stashed a binder of money, false ids, and coded documents directing Neil to different contacts his mother had and small caches of emergency money hidden around the country, in a safe spot in Zone 1 before fleeing into Zone 2. Money and ID weren't necessary or useful in Zone 2, and Neil knew it'd be nearly impossible to hold onto something so important surrounded by feral enemies and desperate people.

What little Neil did have was left entirely in his duffel. The crowbar he'd wrangled up in his first days in Zone 2, the untouched bottle of booze, and all his clothes were in that bag. It was nothing, really, but it was all Neil had.

"Sorry, Neil," Abby had told him with a small pitiful smile. "They didn't bring anything in with you."

It was another level of nothingness that Neil didn't know he could still hit. The disappointment made Neil anxious and he wanted badly to go for a run. He wanted to stretch his sore legs and take himself far away from this bed and this stuffy room and this strange sense of loss being alone in his thoughts gave him.

So the fourth day of Neil's stay in the Foxes' camp Neil appealed to Abby to let him get up and walk around. Mary would have had Neil moving again after a single day of letting his body recover from these wounds. Aside from the gash in his side, Neil was in good shape. His irritation at being unnecessarily coddled must have leaked out enough for Abby to relent.

"But don't push yourself too hard. Your body's still making up for the blood loss," Abby worried.

Abby reached out as Neil got up but didn't touch him. The concerned set of her eyebrows gave Neil the strength not to wince or sway when he was finally on his feet.

"I'll be fine," Neil promised. Abby didn't look convinced but she let it go. She made Neil wait a second as she left the room to grab something. When she returned, Neil saw she was holding a pile of folded clothing and a towel.

"You can go wash up and change into these," Abby told him. She handed him the pile of cloth in her arms. "Shower's outside. Just head right down the hallway and it'll take you to the side door." Neil complied.

The shower was rigged together from an improvised system of pipes and tanks the Foxes had put together. It wouldn't have been much to sneeze at in Zone 1, or back when sewage and running water was commonplace, but it was nicer than anything Neil had come accross during his time in Zone 2. He was grotesquely filthy even after what must have been a rushed spongebath when he'd been taken in bleeding out. He was eager to rinse off weeks of sweat and dirt.

Neil didn't run into anyone on his way to the shower, and wondered if they were out or meeting somewhere else in the house. Abby hadn't mentioned anything to him, but she didn't keep him updated on camp affairs anyway.

Neil set his things just outside the provisional stall and slid the curtain shut around him. He was uncomfortable taking his clothes off knowing so many people could be nearby with nothing but a flimsy curtain to protect him from their stares. Discomfort did him no favors, so he put it aside with practiced detachment. As Neil pulled his shirt off, he took the chance to look down at the wounds, old and new, on his torso distantly.

Even for someone living in Zone 2, Neil's scars were unsightly. He had the marks of his father's temper everywhere from the distinguishable shape of a burn from a hot iron on one shoulder to the neat slices from his father's (or sometimes even his father's underlings') knives. Newer scarring from Neil's life on the run overlapped these older ones. There was a puckering of white tissue where a bullet had hit Neil in the shoulder, and an uneven patch of skin where Neil had scraped himself up badly jumping out of a car stretched over the expanse of his ribs.

The newest addition to Neil's torso was healing nicely thanks to Abby's handiwork. Neil prodded gently at the wound and was satisfied when it didn't open up.

Neil kicked his grubby clothes under the curtain and turned the water on in the shower. It was cold but the feeling of dirt being washed off overshadowed the unpleasant temperature.

Neil showered briskly, his skin pink once he was done from his rapid scrubbing. He was careful to mind his stitches and keep them as dry as he could. Neil dried off with the same swiftness that he'd washed himself with and pulled his clothes on inside the curtain.

The shirt he'd been given was tighter than Neil would have preferred. Oddly, the word "Babygirl" stretched over his chest, but Neil wasn't bothered. The shirt was still in good condition, soft and blue. Neil was lucky to have something at all to change into. That didn't stop him from running his hands down his front obsessively, trying to make sure his scars wouldn't show through.

Even stranger than the design of the shirt was the pair of bright orange shorts that accompanied it. Neil appreciated their length (they came up to just above his mid thigh, much like his previous jean shorts had after they'd been ripped from use) which allowed for more movement and easier running. In this heat, it was nice to expose the skin of his legs even if it made him more prone to insect bites.

  
The color, though, was disconcerting and almost burned Neil's eyes. He was certain anything in a 50 mile radius could spot him in these shorts, even at night on a new moon. Neil pulled them on despite his misgivings and left the shower.

Neil grabbed his old clothes and damp towel and returned to the med room to stow them. The room smelled of Neil's staleness from his occupation and he marveled that anyone had been able to stand being near him at all before a good wash. Abby had disappeared to do whatever around the camp so Neil dropped his things on the floor by the bed and went back out into the hallway.

Neil hadn't been around the camp at all during his stay and he was curious to see it. He walked carefully, ears perked to warn him if anyone approached, subconsiously keeping track of every escape route available. Neil didn't disturb any rooms with closed doors (which was all except for one unremarkable bedroom).

Neil knew the house the camp was built around was a large three-storey with some extra amateur carpentry attached around its base. The med room branched out from a back hallway which led into the main foyer. Neil stopped in the foyer as he heard voices coming from his left. He contemplated finishing his solo tour and avoiding anyone before sucking it up and entering what looked to be a dining room turned command center.

Most of the Foxes were in the middle of some sort of meeting but they fell silent as soon as the noticed their new visitor. Kevin, Nicky, Andrew, and Renee were absent. Aaron was seated there but gave away no sign that he acknowledged Neil's presence. Neil looked at each of the other strange faces, their silence putting him on edge. He didn't realize he was poised to bolt until Wymack spoke gently as if soothing a wild animal.

"Neil. I didn't know you'd been cleared to walk around," Wymack said slowly.

Neil coerced ease into his stance.

"Abby just gave me the go-ahead. I cleaned up and came down here," Neil explained.

"She must have forgotten to tell me before she left with Renee," Wymack remarked dryly.

Neil didn't know how to respond to that so he didn't.

"We're just discussing our next raid. You probably haven't eaten yet. Matt, can you show Neil to the kitchen?"

It was a diplomatic dismissal. Neil didn't blame Wymack for not trusting him to listen in on their plans when he still hadn't confirmed if he'd stay. Neil still intended to leave before the end of the week.

A statuesque, dark-skinned man with an unnaturally friendly face stood and grinned at Neil.

"No problem, Coach," the man said to Wymack. He got up and held a hand out to Neil. Neil took it gingerly and they shook.

"Name's Matt," Matt introduced himself. "And you're probably Neil. I've heard a bit about you."

Neil quirked an eyebrow at that, waiting to see if the other man would elaborate. He didn't.

"Kitchen's just through here. You'll see we only stock the finest selection of Spam and Chef Boyardee," Matt said. He led Neil towards the attached kitchen. Wymack's low voice resumed as the door swung shut behind them.

The kitchen was spacious and bright with sunlight. Neil eyed the large windows that lined the southern wall with scorn. Tactically, they were a glaring weakpoint. Neil wondered if the barrier of scrapmetal he could make out yards away through the windows would be enough to prevent any Infected from breaking into the house.

Matt was unbothered by Neil's silence and spoke warmly to him as if he were already a good friend.

"I know you've mostly interacted only with the monsters--oh that's Andrew's lot, long story--and it drove Dan mad to think that was your first impression of us. I'm sure you'll have time to get to know the rest of us now that you're out of bed. Abby wouldn't let any of us in to say hi except Renee. Kevin kept trying. I thought he'd chew a hole through his fist he was so mad."

Matt let out an easy laugh and pushed open another door to reveal a walk-in pantry. Matt's talkative nature would normally have grated on Neil's nerves, but something in the tone of his voice had a tranquilizing effect on Neil. Neil reminded himself that he was not staying and once he was gone he'd never see Matt again. He couldn't afford leaving attachments here.

The pantry was well-stocked with cans of food. As promised, rows of Spam and ravioli stood among various vegetables and soups. It was enough to last a group this large a decent amount of time but it would eventually run out.

"We ration this out the best we can, but you can pick whatever you want. Think of it as a welcome gift."

"Thanks." Neil wasn't going to waste a chance like this. He surveyed the cans before him. Neil didn't have a favorite food. He'd never had the luxury. What he did have was a good idea of what he could eat that would go a longer way. Neil took less than a minute to decide before pulling off a can of corned beef hash.

"Not my top choice, not my last," Matt commented. "We can grab the canopener and take a seat."

"You're not hungry?" Neil asked.

"Already ate with everyone else. I'm just here to provide excellent company."

They went back into the kitchen and Neil sat on a stool at the marble-topped island in the middle of the floor as Matt rumaged in a drawer for the can opener. Neil was used to pulltab cans or busting the top open and the tool was slightly foreign in his hand. He fumbled with it and Matt was nice enough not to comment. He set a spoon down in front of Neil and came around to sit next to him.

"I was part of the party that found you on that roof. I couldn't believe my eyes. At first I thought the Infected had learned how to climb. Scared me shitless. Seth was ready to shoot you but Kevin stopped him when he recognized you."

Neil couldn't believe Kevin had spared him from a life-threatening injury again. It made him uneasy to think he was making a habit of being saved.

"You're small enough I could carry you back on my own. You lost so much blood. But Abby's a miracle-worker, and you're looking great!"

"I'm grateful for her help," Neil said at length. "And yours," He added. Neil admitted he owed these people his life. It didn't change his need to leave, no matter how many concerned looks Abby gave him, or kind words she said to him.

"Abby'll do anything to keep someone from dying on her watch. I don't know what we did to deserve her," Matt said affectionately.

Neil spooned some of the hash into his mouth so he wouldn't have to respond. The sedate atmosphere was starting to make him restless.  
"Love the outfit by the way. Whose handiwork is that? Yours?" Matt said suddenly.

Neil looked down at the "Babygirl" printed across his chest and his bright orange shorts. He smoothed a hand down his front again and shrugged.

"Abby gave them to me," Neil replied.

"Abby?" Matt gave him a dubious look. "I'd say it's more Allison or Nicky's style."

Neil wasn't sure what to say to that and luckily, a distraction came in the form of Kevin Day who barged into the room with an impossible air of self-importance. As if on cue, Andrew Minyard trailed in behind him.

"Neil," Kevin greeted imperiously. Andrew said nothing.

"Hey, Kevin," Matt said as if to remind the other man of his presence in the room. "Welcome back."

"Boyd," Kevin acknowledged. "I need to talk to Neil." He shot Matt a pointed look.

"Rude, but I can catch a hint. Try not to put him off too much. We wouldn't want you scaring him off." Matt seemed to direct the comment more towards Andrew who didn't spare him a glance. His eyes were focused on Neil with a strange intensity.

"If I hear any screaming, I'm coming in guns blazing," Matt asserted. He eyed them as he closed the door to emphasize his point.

Kevin wasted no time to get to the point.

"You're staying," he said.

"No," Neil said with an annoying sense of deja-vu.

"You can't be serious. You were next to dead when we found you on that roof. You're lucky you're even breathing. There's no way you can go back out there on your own."

"I can't stay behind, Kevin," Neil responded. He didn't want to keep arguing this. Nobody would understand his reasoning and he was sick of having to try.

"You're staying," Kevin repeated. "You're already dead if you don't."

Neil stared dully back at the obstinate man.

"He is already dead," Andrew said suddenly. Neil turned his attention to the short man. Andrew's stare was particularly heavy as he considered Neil.

"You can't see it? He's been dead a long time, haven't you, Neil?"

"I don't know what you mean," Neil replied coolly.

"I mean you're not just running on fumes, you're past that point. You're just another Infected. Walking around thoughtlessly."

"You don't know me."

"I think I do. You have nothing left, nobody around you, no reason to keep on. You're going through the motions. I'd be sad for your pathetic life but I can't seem to muster a fuck to give."

"I don't need your sadness or your fucks or you or you," Neil directed the last word at Kevin. "I'm fine on my own."

"You're not. I was generous to expect you to live a month last time we met. Now we both know you won't even last a week out there," Kevin declared with venom.

"It doesn't concern you,"Neil snapped.

"It does. We need more people and your stubbornness doesn't negate the fact that you need us, too. You're fast; your movements aren't wasteful or sloppy. You can help us get to Zone 1."

"What." Neil couldn't even make it a question. His whole body felt displaced like gravity had shut down entirely. Static ate up anything else Kevin said and roared painfully in Neil's ears. He could feel his father's hands holding him by his throat.

Kevin was still talking with that annoying determined tone. Neil cut him off.

"No," his voice sounded like it'd been dropped into the ocean.

"Excuse me?" Kevin demanded, thrown. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean I'm not going to die trying to get to Zone 1. It's stupid. It's impossible. They shoot anyone who gets within 100 feet of the border."

"We have a plan. We know how to get around the border. We know people inside we can stay with until we have paperwork."

Neil knew how to do all of that too but it didn't make him want it any more. Hysteria choked a high-pitched laugh out of him. He realized his mouth was stretched in that manic grin that reminded him of his father armed with a blade. Neil pressed the side of his hand hard into his smile and stared Kevin down.

"You can't last alone. You've already made that clear. But if you're with us we can make it. No more Infected, no more raids or hunger or wondering if this will finally be the day you turn into one of them." Kevin was leaning down into Neil's space and looking at him as if he believed every lie he was telling.

"It won't work. There's nothing there for you except hundreds of miles of Infected and a quick bullet to the head." Neil's voice was still rough. He was speaking to himself.

The truth was Neil was alone. He was desperately terrifyingly alone. And being around people who weren't actively trying to murder him had only painfully proven that fact. Andrew had been right. Neil had been ready to die on that roof and some part of him had.

Neil didn't know if he could keep going.

All this time and discipline working so hard to listen to his mother's directions and Neil's resolve tested so weak. He could still see his mother's desperate face as she choked out her last words between wet, bloody coughs.

 _Don't look back, don't slow down, and don't trust anyone. Be anyone but yourself, and never be anyone for too long._  
  
Neil closed his eyes against the sudden grief that overcame him. He had repeated those words every day to himself for months. He was getting by. He crawled from second to minute to hour to day with just enough to get to the next. He'd stayed alive this long thanks to his mother's words. But the loneliness was starting to eat at him and it was becoming too much to bear. The emptiness Neil held within himself was growing wider.

"Become more, Neil," Kevin said to him. "We can get the fuck out of this hellhole. Or you can die by yoruself at best and get eaten alive at worst."

Neil couldn't go back to Zone 1. If he did, his father would surely kill him. Slowly and painfully. But he could stay with the Foxes until then. He could cut and run before they got anywhere close to the border. He could disappear again and go back to enduring day by day alone.

It was impossible. It was stupid. It was suicidal.

"Neil," Kevin said. It burned every part of Neil down to three terrible words.

"Yes," Neil said through the glass in his throat. "I'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any feedback and love to hear from you all :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mostly involves interactions with different Foxes. There will be minimal zombie action, but there'll be more gore to come, don't you worry. (This is the chapter you can start playing "I'm fine" bingo.) Also, I snuck in some Exy because I couldn't help myself. Thanks again for reading!
> 
> Warnings: Alcohol and drug use (& being drugged without consent).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the lovely feedback!!! I'm so glad people are enjoying this little AU! I'll try to keep updating regularly (especially since the school year just ended for me and I have more free time). Chapters will most likely be pretty long so it might take a week or so to put a new one up. I'm still kind of fleshing out a longer plot so comment and let me know if it's getting too slow for you. I personally enjoy slower works so I might get a little carried away.

Neil watched Wymack debrief the Foxes with the same calm control he'd likely had before their games. It was strange to watch this group of men and women who bore their teeth so freely to the press and other players sit dutifully through Wymack's speech.

Something must have happened to Wymack in his past to inspire him to recruit the hopeless bastards for his team that he did. He'd seen hardship like the rest of them and he'd gotten through it in as many pieces as it took. To him, the Outbreak was simply another storm to weather--just like it was for Neil. Neil could respect that. He suspected the Foxes sensed it, too, the way they placed their faith in Wymack so strongly.

Wymack had accepted Neil's presence in their meeting without comment after a knowing look and a nod shared with Kevin. Others in the room, namely one towering man Neil deduced was Seth, were less trusting and watched him with surly eyes. Neil was uncomfortable with people staring at him and did his best not to fidget. He still felt raw from his conversation with Kevin and Andrew and it made his skin itch to be surrounded by people he barely knew.

Wymack wrapped up his spiel on how long their rations were predicted to last with an extra member. He moved on to which potential supply stops were feasible and most likely to bear fruit. When he finished, Wymack waved a hand lazily towards Neil to introduce him.  
  
"As you're all already aware, this is Neil. He's just agreed to join our camp. From what we've heard he's handy in a fight. As soon as Abby's cleared him he'll be added to our task and raid roster," Wymack explained. Neil saw the roster Wymack referred to taped up on the wall behind him. It was a table of names, symbols, and codes.

"That's that, then. Any concerns before we split?" Wymack directed at the group.

Seth stood, his hawkish glare still focused on Neil. Neil subconsciously shrank in on himself and cast his eyes down. He watched Seth's hands. Neil had long ago grown the ability to gauge how much distance to put between himself and someone else so he could dodge before their hits landed by watching their hands.

"I have some fucking concerns--" Seth snarled. His hand was a white-knuckled arrow pointing fiercely at Neil.

"If that's all, meeting adjourned or whatever," Wymack interrupted Seth's comment as if he hadn't heard it. Or more likely, as if he'd heard it too many times. "Meet back up here at sunset for dinner."

It was a testament to Wymack's authority that the other man stood down despite the fury in his eyes. Neil saw Seth's hands settle on his crossed arms and squeeze.

Everyone else got up at the same time in an eerily rehearsed movement. Neil guessed that being on the same team and then going on to survive out in Zone 2 as a group had drilled a strange unity in the Foxes.

A fuming Seth strode over to Neil like a bull amping up to charge.

"I can't believe Coach thinks some fuckass kid is going to be useful to us. All you are is dead meat and another mouth to feed," he spit at Neil.

Neil didn't want to make enemies right off the bat so he strangled his temper in line. Kevin came up and shoved at Seth's shoulder, angling himself in front of Neil in a surprising show of backbone.

"Step off, Gordon," Kevin defended Neil. "You haven't seen him fight. He's good. Fast."

Gordon spared a curled lip at Kevin before dragging unimpressed eyes over Neil's smaller form.

"He looks like Muncher meat. I'd put my money on a three-legged kitten in a fight over him."

"Chill out, Seth," a new voice joined in. A golden-skinned woman with sun-bleached hair put a patronizing hand on Seth's shoulder and patted as if calming an angry toddler.

"Allison," the woman introduced herself. Neil regarded the hand she extended to him and was surprised to see her fingernails trimmed neatly and painted purple. Allison caught the scrutiny and fanned her hand out for him to get a better look.

"Renee helped me get the polish. It's absolute ass but you can only do so much in this shithole," Allison explained.  
Seth shrugged Allison off and loomed even further over Neil.

"I'm warning you," he snarled. "I'm not going to carry your weak ass or let you off if you're dragging us down. Pull your own weight. Or else."

To Neil the threats felt like a schoolyard bully blowing smoke. His unimpressed expression made Seth's eyes narrow to near-slits. Instead of continuing his tirade, he shoved Neil roughly out of his way and stomped outside.

Neil stumbled into Andrew who'd come up with Kevin to observe the interaction. He bore Neil's weight without shifting. Neil was surprised by Andrew's steadiness as he pushed off of him hastily. His back was hot where it had made contact with Andrew's chest.

Of course staying with the Foxes wasn't going to be sunshine and rainbows. Even if they weren't made up of prickly strays, nothing in Zone 2 was bound to be that picture-perfect. Neil even preferred the open hostility, which he could trust in its honesty.

Allison, however, was an absolute snake. She observed Neil with a calculating gaze.

"Nice shirt," she said with a razor-sharp grin. "Nicky, I'm guessing?"

"Knew it!" Matt suddenly piped in. Neil was baffled once more by Matt's unguarded manner as he looped an arm over Allison's shoulders.

"That's two of my dish duties, Dan," Matt said to the woman that approached them next.

Dan groaned and leaned onto Matt.

"Damn, Ali, I could have sworn that shirt was yours," Dan whined.

"Mine? Too tacky. You know I don't do writing over the boobs. You don't embellish on perfection," Allison responded.

"Out of irony or something then," Dan reasoned. Matt ruffled a hand through her short hair and kissed the top of her head.

"Maybe next time, babe," he said with a playful grin.

Neil watched the interaction with growing confusion. Dan caught on and explained.

"That ridiculous outfit," she indicated. "We were betting on whether Nicky or Allison had picked it out for you. You've met Nicky, right? Makes total sense."

Neil ran a hand over the blue shirt decorated with the word "Babygirl," and the tiny neon orange shorts self-consciously. He knew they made him stand out like a radioactive sore thumb but they were comfortable. He hadn't thought much of it when he'd changed into the clothing after his first shower in weeks.

"What's wrong with these?" Neil felt compelled to ask. Eyebrows shot up on all three faces in front of him. Dan's face softened.

"Nothing, kid, you look great. It's just a bit...colorful," Matt reassured Neil. Neil frowned in agreement.

"I know it's not very practical if I'm going out on raids," Neil admitted. "But it's the best I've worn in a long time."

"I get that," Dan replied. Her smile dimmed and her eyes went far. "It's been a hard year for everyone out here. But it'll be better in time."

"I can't wait to get the fuck out of this zombie-infested shit zone," Allison huffed. Dan reached out and squeezed her arm.

"Glad you'll be joining us when we're the fuck out of here, Neil," Matt said. Neil was unsure how to take that ready trust.

"I'm sorry," Wymack cut in. "I didn't realize we'd scheduled social hour right now."

The others spared Wymack sheepish faces.

"Sorry, Coach," Dan said. "Just introducing ourselves to the new guy."

"You'll have plenty of time to play 20 questions with him at dinner tonight. Dan, Allison, perimeter. Matt, stay with me a sec. We need to go check out some of the eastern traps," Wymack commanded.

"Yeah, yeah," Allison muttered as she and Dan waved and left.

"Kevin," Wymack prompted. Kevin tipped his chin up. "Give Neil a tour of the place. Neil, if you have any other questions just ask Kevin while he gives you the run down of how things work around here. Don't break him," Wymack warned Kevin. "Abby will kill us all if he pops those stitches."

"Abby would patch up a fly if it was dying in front of her," Matt argued with a lop-sided smile.

"She'd put him on mandatory bed rest again, then," Wymack amended. "And then we'd be down another pair of hands."

"I'll be fine," Neil promised.

"Make sure of it," Wymack said with a pointed finger.

"Let's go," Kevin ordered.

Kevin showed Neil through the door and into the hallway. Andrew followed them without a word and Neil wondered if the two went everywhere together, even inside their camp.

  
Over the next hour or so, Neil received the bare bones version of a tour of the grounds. Kevin spoke dryly as if reciting facts before a judge. Andrew said nothing at all. Neil cataloged every exit and hiding place and weak point on instinct.

There were three floors to the house with several bedrooms. Neil could sense that the Foxes were split in half between Andrew and his crew, and the others. The divide was even more noticeable when he saw that they'd separated their sleeping quarters between the second and third floors. Neil was unsure where he'd fall between the two, but he couldn't see himself assimilating well at all either way.

Neil was most curious about the Foxes' outer perimeter. He'd seen the makeshift walls in glimpses from windows but he wanted to test their durability for himself. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he could reassure himself that the walls were at least semi-competent. He wouldn't sleep well anyway surrounded by Foxes, but that was beside the point.

Kevin led their small group outside and Neil regretted the existence of the sun immediately. It was now at its brutal zenith, making the air wavy with heat. He glanced over at Andrew who was wearing his usual all-black attire.

Andrew didn't give any indication that the heat got to him, but his cheeks were flushed pink and sweat was already dampening the hair sticking slightly to his forehead. Neil appreciated the bright orange shorts he was wearing even more in the wake of the stifling humidity.

"What." Andrew snapped in response to Neil's staring. Neil couldn't help himself.  
  
"Nothing," Neil responded. He volleyed his attention back to Kevin. They'd reached the outer wall.

"This is important, Neil. Pay attention," Kevin instructed.

 

"Yes, mom," Neil quipped. The sides of Kevin's mouth turned down almost comically at the snark.  
  
"This is the outer wall. We run daily maintenance on it in pairs. It spans around the entirety of the house and the only way in is through the front gate. We have traps set just inside the wall at different weak points in case something manages to get through."

Neil scrutinized the wall as Kevin spoke. He placed a hand gently on the metal and almost whipped it back when searing heat met his skin. The wall was a patchwork of different hunks of scrap metal. It seemed sturdy enough but Neil could see that wear and tear would deteriorate it to critical levels within a year. The Foxes were lucky that South Carolina didn't see much extreme weather this far inland.

"Where are the traps?" Neil inquired. He pulled his hand away and glanced through the weeds around them to see if there was one nearby.

"There's a map in the command center that has them all marked down. Most of them are standard bear traps but there are a few more creative ones. You'll become familiar with them when you're on maintenance."

"How are tasks assigned?" Neil asked.

"You'll have morning, afternoon, and evening tasks. There's a lot to do around here. I'm not sure how you'll fit into the rota. Abby has to clear you for work first," Kevin explained.

"I can work fine," Neil insisted.

"You can't push your body until it's ready. Taking time to recover is vital here. Just appreciate that you're getting it," Kevin said.

Neil couldn't argue that point but he still felt restless about not contributing after lazing around and using up the Foxes' supplies for days.

"You've already seen the shower. If you need to use the bathroom, you'll have to use one of the outhouses on the east side of camp."

Neil had been used to nothing but bushes and ditches so an outhouse was a luxury in comparison.

"Electricity runs on a rigged generator and it's unreliable. We run maintenance on the generator, too, and try to keep our usage low. And that's it for now," Kevin concluded. "Any other questions?"

Neil nodded. "How often do you guys run raids?"

"Depends. Once a week at least. More if we're low on supplies. Nicky, Renee, and Abby are out right now on a med run. They'll probably be back tomorrow morning."

Neil understood that it had been his own presence that depleted their med supply, but he didn't feel guilty over it. They'd chosen to use the supplies on him.

"You let your nurse leave camp for that long? What happens if one of you gets injured?" Neil wondered.

"Aaron has medical training. He can take care of us until Abby returns."

Neil was surprised that the stoic man was their backup medic. He didn't seem the type for care-giving. Neil could almost be amused imagining Aaron's cold bedside manner.

"If you're done, you can go back to the med room. I'll come to collect you for dinner after Andrew and I finish up out here."

"I can help out," Neil tried to protest. He didn't want to return to that stagnant room where he could sink into his thoughts and the reality of his situation could finally hit full force.

"No," was all Kevin said. Neil looked to Andrew as if the other man would disagree and knew before making eye contact that it was a futile thought.

"Back to bed, little rabbit. You know what they say about all work and no play," Andrew said in the same frustrating monotone.

"Fine," Neil bit out. He left the two outside. In a moment of pettiness, Neil savored the coolness of the house and felt satisfied that the others had to suffer the heat outside.

When he returned to the rumpled state of his bed, Neil was more tired than he would proudly admit. Four days of softness and he was already getting weaker. Tomorrow he needed to do more than sit in this bed and take leisurely strolls. As he thought of ways to convince Abby to clear him for work, Neil drifted off into an uncomfortable half-sleep.

Neil woke up the second he heard the doorknob turning. The sweat from his time outside earlier had dried into a gross film over his face and his mouth was incredibly dry.

Kevin made an imposingly dark figure in the doorway. Panic welled and died in Neil's chest.

"Dinner," was all the other man said before retreating back into the hallway.  
Neil scrubbed a hand over his cheeks and eyes and let his body calm down. Being near Kevin still put Neil on edge. Every time Kevin looked at him, Neil could feel his mother's hand gripping his arm in warning.

Neil got up steadily and wandered out towards the kitchen. He heard voices before he entered the well-lit room. It took a moment for Neil's eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness.

Matt and Dan stood at one of the kitchen counters laughing with each other like thousands of Infected weren't out there waiting to crack their heads open. It ached a little to watch.

"Neil!" Matt called out.

"Morning, sunshine," Dan added.

Neil's bewildered glance to the darkened windows had Dan and Matt giggling. He realized belatedly that she was joking.

"Hey," Neil responded for lack of anything better to say.

"How's your wound?" Matt asked. He was chopping a slab of spam into thick slices.

"Great. Almost good as new," Neil replied. He tried to smile convincingly to drive the point home. The healing gash was still sore but that was nothing.

"Yeah I totally believe that. Either way Abby can get a good look at it tomorrow and let us know the damage. It's a good sign you're up and walking around okay at least," Matt said.

"I'm fine, really," Neil insisted. Matt still didn't look convinced and Neil was tired of trying. He changed the subject. "Anything I can do to help?"

Dinner looked like it would be an assortment of different lukewarm canned foods. There was a microwave on the counter and a stove but Neil doubted they were functional. He was still marveling over the light that illuminated the kitchen, even if it flickered almost constantly.

"Nah we're good," Matt admitted. "The culinary skills I honed in college are really paying off. There's not a can out there that I can't open."

Dan swiped some of the spam slices and began doling them out onto different plates. She slopped a dollop of Spaghetti-O's alongside each one with artistic flair.

"He's the can guy and I'm all about plating. In another life I'm winning Chopped right now. Actually, Neil, it'd be great if you could help me carry some of these out to the table?"

Neil reached out silently and grabbed the two plates Dan extended to him. She gestured to the dining room where they'd held the meeting earlier. Faint light shone through the crack under the door. Neil pushed it open with his shoulder, minding the plates.

"There he is," Wymack greeted Neil. Everyone else in the room was sitting around the table without speaking.

"Dinner," Neil offered. He wasn't sure who to serve first so he just set the plates down randomly in the middle of the table. Nobody moved to grab them.

Dan breezed in a second later balancing four plates on her arms and Matt followed with the last few. They laid them out like expert servers and took their seats next Allison and Seth. Wymack sat at one head of the table and Andrew took the other. The shorter man was flanked by Kevin and Aaron who took their plates without comment.

There were a handful of empty seats left for Neil to take and he quickly chose the one closest to the door and furthest from the windows. It placed him right next to Aaron.

There was no preamble or prayer before everyone dug in. Everyone ate with the barely restrained voracity of starved animals. Neil wondered how much of that desperation came from their lives before the Outbreak, and how much could be blamed on the days after. He ate his own portion slowly, so his stomach wouldn't ache.

Nobody spoke until their food was finished. Then Wymack led everyone through different status reports on what they'd done that day. Apparently there was a nearby stream where they could wash their clothes and even get a scrubbing for themselves.

"Abby, Nicky, and Renee will be coming back tomorrow and then we'll do the whole welcoming committee thing for Neil. You guys can take him to the court if he's okay with it. You've all been overdue for a break. Abby and I will handle perimeter and maintenance. You guys relax."

The response to that was a round of excited cheers and smiles. Neil's own thoughts had snagged on the word "court." He repeated it aloud without thinking.

"It's one of the reasons we chose this place--there's a local private school a couple of miles out from here," Dan explained with a wild grin. "Rich kids get the best facilities. There's a decent Exy court there. It survived the Outbreak pretty well and when we get the time we go there for some scrimmaging."

"We're out of practice," Matt conceded. "But it's brilliant to play again."

"You're atrocious," Kevin corrected. "It's like playing with children."

"Not all of us were born and bred like blessed Exy dogs," Seth snapped at Kevin. "The rest of us had to wipe our own asses and feed ourselves."

"A dog with a racquet would score better than you," Aaron drawled with a low-lidded gaze in Seth's direction.

"And a one-legged baby could get past your defense fuck-nugget," Seth retorted.

"Hey," Dan stopped them with a commanding note in her voice. Neil was reminded that she'd once been their captain. "We'll leave all of that to the court. Tomorrow."

Allison turned to Neil. "You ever play?"

Neil wasn't sure which truths to divulge with this group. He didn't want to hand any pieces of his past to Kevin so he could put the puzzle together faster. Neil had at one time played little league Exy before going on the run. Not only that, he'd also brushed up on some of his skills during his very brief time in a high school after his mother's death.

"Not really," Neil settled on. "I know the rules but that's about it."

"He has to watch out for his stitches anyway," Wymack said. "If he does play make sure it's against a wall and not you guys. You don't know the meaning of the words 'hold back.'"

"I can take it," Neil said. He didn't want them not to take him to the court. His heart bubbled in his chest at the thought.

"I'm sure you can," Wymack replied with an unimpressed twist in his mouth. "But still. Take it easy."

"I can't believe I'm going to chip these right after I did them," Allison complained. The light in her face denied that she was actually disappointed. Everyone here had lived and breathed Exy before. Not a one of them wouldn't take every chance they could to be on the court.

Neil felt sick envy and stamped it out. His survival had cost him Exy and he wouldn't regret it. That was a spiral of bitterness he could never crawl out of.

"That's what you get for going drugstore on a manicure," Dan said to Allison. "I've got some tricks that can help the color last longer. Maybe Renee and I can show you tomorrow."

"Thanks babe. I can always rely on you girls in drastic times."

"We're the real ride-or-die," Dan boasted toothily. "The kind that makes sure you look amazing even when smashing Exy balls into someone's face."

Andrew had grown tired of the conversation apparently. He stood up without a word and gestured at Kevin to follow. Kevin got up without protest like a well-trained dog and the two left. Aaron disappeared soon after.

"Dishes?" Neil prompted trying to be useful.

"Nope, it's all Dan tonight," Matt said with glee. "That's why you never bet against me, babe."

Dan checked Matt with her hip as she started collecting the dishes. Neil admired that not a single drop of food remained on any of them.

"I can help," Neil assured. "At least I can help you carry them."

"Isn't he sweet?" Allison observed with her cat-like smile. "I want to put him in my pocket and keep him forever." She laughed at the appalled look that elicited from Neil.

Seth slammed his hands on the table as he stormed out which set off another round of laughter from Allison.

"I get the feeling he doesn't like me," Neil remarked dryly.

"Don't mind him," Allison reassured him. "He's just mad about the huge stick up his ass."

"I think I remember you admiring his stick just two days ago," Matt said slyly.

"He has his moments."

"And that's my cue to get the fuck out of here," Wymack interjected.

"Night, Dad," Allison called to his back.

"See you bright and early, smart-ass."

Dan had successfully piled every dish in the room into a teetering stack and left for the kitchen. Neil followed her as Matt and Allison got into another light-hearted argument.

"You really don't have to help me, Neil."

"I know."

"Fine then," Dan said with a small huff of laughter. "Grab the bucket there, would you?"

Neil did as he was told and followed Dan outside. It took a minute for his eyes to get used to the dark. The moon was bright and covered almost every surface in a pale white glow.

"Renee taught us how to make this soap. All natural or something," Dan was holding up a solid lump of something.

"Go ahead and grab that hose and fill the bucket." They got to work with only the slight clinks of the dishes and the buzz of insects to accompany them.

"Dan," Neil started. He wanted to ask her something but he couldn't quite form the words.

"Yeah, kid?"

"How--how do you think you guys are going to get back into Zone 1? It's suicide. Why can't you just stay here?" He didn't say that he knew why they'd want to be in Zone 1. He wanted to know something else. Why risk everything when their system worked fine here. Why risk their lives on an almost certain impossibility?

Dan blew out a breath. The moon looked like broken glass on her dark skin.

"We have connections there that can get us in and hide us. It took a long time to get in contact but we've got it figured out. All we have to do is get to West Virginia. The border."

Neil realized he hadn't been rinsing the dishes she'd handed him and resumed.

"It might be risky. It might kill all of us. But," She smiled lightly. "It's worth it to get out of here. You should know. We can't live like this forever. There's more out there and we can have it."

Become more, Neil. Kevin's words from earlier echoed in his head. Neil didn't understand. He'd always been nothing. A shadow. Legally, a ghost. Running from one transient home to another. He didn't know how to become more than that.

"It's ok, Neil," Dan said after seeing the confusion in his frown. "You're a Fox now. You'll get it."

They finished the dishes in silence and brought them back to the blinding light of the kitchen.

As Neil fell into a fitful sleep his mother's warnings mixed into Kevin and Dan's hopeful words. He couldn't believe in their optimism but it plagued him nonetheless.

Neil had been away from people for too long. He craved this false sense of belonging they were holding up in front of him. He knew it wouldn't last. As soon as they got close to Zone 1 he would cut himself off from them and run again. Like always. Neil couldn't let the Foxes into the broken parts of himself. It would only hurt worse when he had to rip the bandage off.

* * *

 

Abby was back when Neil got up. She woke him when she came in to restock despite her subdued movements. She gave Neil an apologetic smile when she saw him sitting up.

"Sorry, just trying to get everything in order before I crash. I heard you were going to join us permanently?"

"Yeah," Neil confirmed. His own voice held the disbelief that circled the thought. He shook it off with a wag of his head and carefully got to his feet.

"Whoa there, let me check you out before you go out and run around. Here," Abby ordered. She put a hand on his shoulder to ease him back onto the bed.

"I feel fine," Neil said on instinct.

"I've heard. Just let me look one second. Can I?" Abby pulled at the hem of his shirt.

Neil knew she'd already seen the scarring on his body from when she'd first patched him up and the subsequent check-ups she'd done on him. It didn't stop his heart from pounding when he had to expose himself to her again. He couldn't bear to say anything to give his weakness away so he just nodded.

"Thank you," Abby said warmly. She pulled the blue shirt up just above the wound.

"Looks like it's healing up great," Abby concluded. "I can probably take your stitches out tomorrow. Until then only light activities. No heavy lifting or contact sports." She smiled at the last part.

"I heard they're taking you to the court today. Don't let them drag you into a game. And if you guys run into any Infected let the others handle it. They're plenty capable. I'd stop you if I thought they'd let me. Just make sure my hard work doesn't go to waste, ok?"

Abby reached a hand up like she wanted to pat Neil on the cheek and thought better of the motion. She settled for squeezing his shoulder lightly.

"Glad to have you with us, Neil," Abby said. "I'm going to finish up in here and leave you be in just a minute. The others will probably be up soon if you want to get a head start on washing up for breakfast."

Neil followed her advice. He still didn't have any fresh clothing but the things he'd worn the previous day were barely used and he pulled them on without thought.

When Neil reached the dining room he saw Abby giving Wymack a detailed report of how their raid went. Wymack nodded along, his body angled intimately towards her. Neil left them alone and wandered into the kitchen. He wondered how long the two of them had known each other.

Through the large windows of the kitchen Neil caught Seth and Allison sparring. They fought each other with staggering ferocity. Neil wanted to observe their proficiency so he watched, leaning a hip on the kitchen counter. Neil heard a door creaking open and a sleepy-eyed Nicky stumbled in.

"Ah, the straights are at it again," Nicky mumbled through a yawn. Neil's eyebrows furrowed. Did Nicky mean the fighting?

"I don't think I even want to understand why those two are still together," Nicky said, flicking a hand toward the window.

Neil looked back at Seth and Allison but their sparring had been cut short. Instead, Allison had Seth pinned down in the grass and the two of them were making out furiously.

"That's not a sound battle tactic," Neil commented with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know, I kind of like the idea. Want to try it sometime?"

"I think I'm good, thanks."

"You'll come around. But for now I think I'm going to go make love to my bed for 24 hours straight. If you see Andrew tell him I found what he wanted."

"What he wanted?" Nicky waved Neil's inquiry off.

"Don't worry about it. 'Night, beautiful."

Neil let Nicky go without further questioning. He was sure if Andrew wanted anything it wasn't something he should get involved in.

Allison and Seth were still all over each other outside so Neil gave up hanging out in the kitchen and returned to the dining room. Wymack sat alone now and he was reading some sort of list. He caught sight of Neil and snapped his fingers to get his attention.

"Go get Kevin's lazy ass out of bed," Wymack demanded.

"Me?" Neil asked.

"Do you see anyone else around?"

"Um, ok." Neil remembered where Kevin's room was but he felt a little awkward going up there.

"Great, thanks. Make sure Minyard gets up, too. Just don't touch him." Noted.

Neil left Wymack to his notes and scaled up the two sets of stairs. He approached Kevin's room and knocked as loudly as he could. There was no response. He knocked again, this time more impatiently. Nothing. Neil gave up and opened the door.

Kevin's room was completely dark. A sheet had been thrown over the window to block out any light. Neil entered cautiously, eyes on the lump of unconscious Exy player in the bed.

"Kevin," Neil called. The lump made no movement. "Oh fuck it."

Neil took a shoe by the doorway and chucked it hard at Kevin's prone form. The other man jumped up with a yelp.

"What the fuck?" Kevin cried out. His hair was a bird's nest in a windstorm. His eyes were comically unfocused as he glared at Neil.

"What the fuck do you want?" Kevin grumbled.

"Wymack wants you downstairs," Neil replied simply.

Kevin flopped back onto the bed and looked halfway to being asleep again when Neil chucked the other shoe. Kevin came up again cursing fluently. Neil had trouble holding in a laugh.

"What's going on here?" A cold voice sent ice down Neil's spine. He couldn't believe he'd let someone sneak up on him. Neil whipped around, putting his back to the wood of the door.

Andrew looked like he'd been awake for hours. He turned a flat look on Kevin who was finally arranging himself to get up. His eyes swivelled slowly over the room before hitting Neil.  
"Be careful where you step, Neil," Andrew warned. "I don't let people touch my things."

"You can take it up with Wymack. He wanted me to get you guys downstairs."

"And what a good little boy you are, following his orders."

Neil gave Andrew a baleful stare. "Looks like you're both up. I'll let him know you'll be down soon."

Neil edged around Andrew, careful not to make any contact. Aaron was waiting in the hallway and passed bored eyes over Neil.

Breakfast was more Spam. Today it was flavored "Hot & Spicy" with Tabasco. Wymack gave everyone a daily rundown of supplies and plans for future raids. When he was done he reminded them that the team would be traveling to the court for most of the day.

"Abby's cleared Neil for the trip, but he's not allowed to play. Just give him a look around and run a few scrimmages. When you get back, we'll have a special dinner," Wymack explained.

"That means alcohol doesn't it, Coach?" Matt whooped.

"It means nothing," Wymack denied. His crooked smile said otherwise. "Just get back in one piece. You know the drill. Two guns, weapons always ready, and be aware. Save the screwing around for when you're secure in the court. First sign of real trouble and you retreat immediately. The kid's still fragile so watch out for him."

"Aye aye, Coach. We'll give him a helmet and everything," Allison said with a smirk.

"He's not playing," Wymack reminded her. "Be gentle."

After that there was nothing to darken the mood of those eating. Not even Seth's snide remarks. Or Kevin's arrogance. Despite this haughtiness, Kevin couldn't hide the spring in his step as he went out to wash the dishes.

Renee joined them not too long after breakfast with a sleepy look in her eyes. Nicky stumbled down as well and scarfed down a small hunk of Spam.

"Hello, Neil," Renee said calmly to him.

"Hey," Neil responded. He couldn't help that he was still wary around her. Renee took the clipped greeting with a small smile.

"Renee," Andrew greeted. Neil was surprised Andrew gave the woman any acknowledgement when he seemed so uninterested in anything else.

"Good morning, Andrew." Nobody else batted an eye at the exchange.

Neil decided to save himself a headache and leave the strange interaction alone. Instead, he listened silently as Allison and Dan pulled Renee into a discussion about improvised cosmetics.

They'd just started debating the uses of different ingredients in homemade face masks when Kevin returned from doing the dishes. He swept into the room with growing self-importance.

"We should hurry up if we want to get as much time on the court as we can," he commanded.

"Of course, Your Highness," Seth muttered back.

The Foxes left the kitchen to collect their chosen weapons and any other travel supplies. Neil caught sight of Nicky leaning in and speaking mostly inaudible German to Andrew and he was reminded of what Nicky had said earlier about finding something for Andrew. They stepped out of earshot and Neil brushed it off.

Everyone came back hefting some sort of satchel or backpack. Andrew returned with his own pack and a familiar grubby duffel. He passed it to Neil with a careless toss and Neil was stunned speechless as he caught it on reflex.

"I thought..." Neil trailed off. He ran the worn fabric through his fingers. This was the same duffel he'd carried over from Zone 1. There was nothing else inside and Neil faintly remembered his crowbar slipping from his limp hand into the horde of Infected that surrounded him on that mobile home only days ago.

It was a gift, Neil thought strangely. This ratty thing that Andrew had no reason to lug back when they'd carried Neil's unconscious body here. Neil wasn't comfortable with the warmth in his chest. He didn't like being attached to things and he'd never been given a gift before. That Andrew was the first one to do so was unsettling. Squeezing the empty bag tightly in his fist, he looked up and saw Andrew watching him.

"Thank you," Neil said because he was grateful. Andrew turned away.  
"It's basically garbage," Andrew returned.

"Still," Neil said.

"You'll need a weapon," Kevin remarked as he hefted his own length of pipe. He handed a recognizable Exy racquet to Andrew with a look of distaste.

"Anything you prefer?" Nicky chimed in. "Dan and Allison are our guns today. Coach doesn't want you in the mess if we run into any Infected but it's good to be prepared."

"I'm fine with anything," Neil complied. He didn't let them know he'd been competent in using an abundant assortment of weapons since childhood.

"I'll take you to the weapons closet and you can pick something out, then," Nicky said. He grabbed Neil's wrist and tugged him down the hallway.

"Should I carry any other supplies?" Neil asked.

"Oh yeah, water, some food--I don't think we need you carrying anything else," Nicky answered.

They reached a wide coat closet and Nicky pulled the door open with a flourish.

"Behold, the armory!"

It was as organized as a coat closet could get, Neil supposed. Different improvised weaponry leaned against the interior walls. There was an expansive rack of knives and another rack of guns. Neil wondered at the hazards of having everything in here without a lock to secure it. The Foxes trusted each other that much.

Neil avoided looking at the knives and instead spotted a thick crowbar tucked behind a nail-studded bat and a croquet mallet. He wiggled it out, careful not to let the nails on the bat scrape him. Neil weighed the crowbar in his hand and found it acceptable. He held it up to let Nicky know he'd chosen.

"Lovely choice. I see you're sticking with the old but good," Nicky proclaimed. "Come on, we'll get you some rations for the trip."

By the time Nicky had thoroughly chatted Neil to exhaustion, everyone was packed up and ready to leave. Wymack sent them off with his usual gruff warnings, already heading out back to start checking the outer wall.

The front gate was heavily chained shut. Neil was intrigued to see that there was no key to open the padlock keeping them fastened. Instead, Andrew worked a few picks out of one of his black armbands and worked the lock open. It took him seconds before the chains rattled and fell away. Andrew pushed the gate open effortlessly, the metal squealing jarringly along the ground.

Dan and Allison slipped through first, guns up as they checked to make sure their way was clear. They waved everyone else through when they were satisfied. Neil's own instincts were on high-alert and he was tense as he joined everyone outside the safety of their base.

The trip to the school passed quickly for Neil who was on edge the entire time. He didn't realize he'd relaxed his guard so much staying in the Foxes' camp. Being out in the open with the possibility of an attack from Infected at any moment brought a memory of the taste of blood to Neil's mouth.

Neil didn't see the white stone of the school until they were almost touching down on the institute's grounds. Thick foliage hid the grand buildings from view. They were approaching from behind and Neil could make out the run down structures of different sports fields and facilities behind a barbed wire fence.

  
Weeds were overtaking everything in sight. The view ahead was lush in vibrant greens. It was funny how humanity's destruction out here had allowed the environment they'd left behind to flourish. Among all the plant life, Neil couldn't see the court and he assumed it was somewhere inside.

Neil couldn't remember wanting anything so badly before. He wanted to breathe in the smell of sweat and polished wood and hear the pounding of an Exy ball like a rush through his veins. As they reached the fence blocking delinquents like themselves from entering school grounds, Neil wrapped his fingers through the links and shook them slightly.

"Whoa there," Nicky cautioned. "Just a sec, let our guns get into position first to cover us."

Neil didn't respond, only slowly loosened his grip and stepped away. His desire was dizzying. It was like someone had opened a full tap inside him and he didn't know what to do with the flood.

Dan scaled the fence first, maneuvering over a tampered-with portion of barbed wire that now bent away from doing any damage. When she dropped down she had her gun up again immediately. Everyone else followed over, moving with trained grace. Neil did his best not to irritate the stitches on his side as he climbed.

Once Allison had joined them on the other side of the fence, they were all moving again. As Neil predicted, they headed into one of the large white buildings.

It was instantly cooler as they reached the shade inside. What was once probably a well-maintained facility had fallen into gross disrepair. All around, there were black lumps of decayed corpses dried up and lining the hallways of the school. Neil was used to the sight of death but he'd avoided any largely populated areas since entering Zone 2 and he was unaccustomed to the mass grave splattered out before him. To his relief, none of the lumps were still moving and he ignored them in favor of focusing on being on an Exy court again in mere minutes.

Dan led everyone through a heavy set of doors into a darkened locker room. She motioned for everyone to remain where they were as she and Allison ran a swift sweep of the room. Everyone else formed up back to back in a circle surrounding Neil who'd been caught out of their synchronization.

"Clear," Dan called.

"Clear," Allison confirmed a second later.

"Alright, Ali, Renee, and I will watch the exits while you guys change out. We'll swap when you're done. Kevin make sure Neil has some sort of equipment. He should fit into the leftovers from the school," Dan ordered.

Nausea coiled in Neil's throat at the thought of changing in front of all these people--especially Kevin who had Neil's past locked somewhere away in his memory. But Neil knew he couldn't separate from the group without risking everyone's safety. It would be more conspicuous if he did.

Neil weighed getting the greater chance to play Exy with the Foxes against the off chance of them seeing his scars. He knew they might not bat an eye at the damage--having seen enough injuries of their own out here--but that thought didn't comfort him. Exy won out in the end, though, and Neil swallowed his discomfort in the hopes that the darkness of the locker room would disguise him as best as it could.

Kevin led Neil to a bin of used equipment, ignorant of the uneasiness swirling within him. Kevin sorted through everything with a trained touch. A mismatched set of Exy gear piled up in his arms until he was finished and shoved the entire heap at Neil.

"This should cover you. You won't be doing much anyway, but you need to be protected," Kevin assured Neil.

"What about you guys?" Neil asked. He could hear the rustling of everyone else changing out around them.

"We stash our old gear here so we don't need to lug it back and forth," Kevin explained. "It belongs here."

Neil could hear in his voice that it physically pained Kevin to abandon his gear in this random high school. He was right about the convenience, though. Carrying all this padding and equipment while trying to fight for your life was not a smart move. Even if you wore the padding to protect yourself, the heat outside could make you pass out before you reached the school.

Kevin left Neil alone to grab his own things and Neil changed out as quickly as he could. It took him some time to figure out how to properly secure every piece. Neil thanked the darkness for obscuring his scars as he pulled a slightly tight jersey over his head. Everyone else was finished by the time he fastened his neck guard and they moved to secure the exits so the girls could change as well.

Neil paired up with Matt who was bouncing lightly on his feet. Matt held his helmet under one arm and Neil could make out the lines of his face in the dark. They were focused, intent, like he was hyping himself up for an actual game.

 _This is what an Exy player looks like_ , Neil marveled. _I'm going to be on the same court as him._

Neil caught Kevin's shadow across the locker room. _I'm going to be on the same court as_ him.

Neil didn't know if the thought made him sick with excitement or worry. He'd played Kevin once in little leagues. Right before Neil's father hacked a man into pinkie-sized bits in one of the stadium's backrooms. Would Kevin remember him in a more familiar setting? Neil tugged at his auburn hair anxiously, wishing he could still dye it to add another layer between Kevin and the truth.

"All set," Dan called. "Ready?" She wore full gear except for her gloves which she'd tucked into her waistband and freed her hands to hold her gun.

"Set," Allison verified. Dan nodded at her.

"Okay, let's go." Dan went ahead and Allison brought up the rear with Seth at her side. The two of them moved together impressively, Seth watching out for Allison as she stepped backwards.

Time froze for Neil as the court opened up before him. There were wide strips of glass sunroofs opening up the ceiling to let natural light fall over the stands and wood of the floor. The plexiglass walls that separated the inner court from play were fully intact and pristine. They looked alien after emerging from the gory halls of the rest of the school. Like a divine force had placed them there.

"Wow," Neil breathed. He stepped forward sluggishly. His mind was still frozen, but the court drew him forward.  
"I know," Matt said beside him. "It took a ton of work to get this place cleaned up but it's so worth it. Every time I step in here I remember what we're fighting for."

"Hemmick, Gordon, disarm the traps," Dan ordered. Nicky and Seth approached a structure of metal that Neil hadn't noticed in his awe for the court and began fiddling with it.

"There are traps at every entrance and exit here in case any Infected get in. We haven't had any trouble after initially sweeping the stragglers out but you can't be too careful," Matt explained. "If anything happens today just follow my lead. We have like a million contingency plans. I'll watch your back."

Neil shouldn't have trusted those words but he found that he did. He'd already planned several different ways out of here in seconds but the presence of other traps he couldn't see yet could throw a deadly wrench in all of them.

"How do the traps work?" Neil asked Matt.

"Oh they're actually really simple, but it's enough to trick any Infected. Here I'll show you."

Matt walked Neil through disarming the traps as Nicky and Seth worked. It mostly involved carefully detaching different pieces and not getting caught on jagged spikes of metal.

As soon as it was safe to pass through, the Foxes bled onto the court in radiant orange. In the sunlight that filtered down from above, their team colors glowed like creatures from the deepest depths of the ocean. Seth reset the trap behind them and they got settled on the inner court.

Dan took up position in front of them. She straightened up like a General giving orders. It was as natural a stance to her as crouching ready on the court.

"Weapons within reach but out of bounds. We'll stretch out and run laps first then do some warm ups. We'll run scrimmages when we're all loosened up until we need to break," Dan outlined. "Kevin, after we warm up take Neil through some basic drills and make sure he's familiar with the rules. He can practice them while we're playing."

She pulled her helmet on as she gave Neil a questioning look. "You sure you're alright to join?"

"I'm sure," Neil said. There was nothing in the world that could stop him from getting inside those walls. Not the Infected. Not his father. Not death itself.

"Alright." Dan clapped Neil on the shoulder. "Kevin?"

"Here," Kevin said. "I figure you'll be joining me as striker since we're down on offensive players." He offered Neil an Exy racquet much shorter than his own  
  
"This is a light racquet, and it isn't fit exactly for your height but it should do," Kevin pointed out.

Neil took the racquet in his hands like it was made of pure gold. The colors clearly weren't Fox colors (probably the high school team's instead) a dark teal complimented with white. Neil weighed it in his hands. He'd never felt anything so perfect.

"It's amazing," Neil admitted. He spun it in his right hand and tugged on the netting before catching himself.

Neil reminded himself that the Foxes thought he was a complete amateur. The cover up was partially true. Kevin wanted Neil on offense and Neil had only ever learned defense. Add on the fact that Neil's skills were rusty, especially compared to players from an actual team, and he would look like a drunken chimpanzee bumbling around the court.

Kevin had an expression on his face that could crack a geode. It bore into Neil like he was understanding something deeper than Neil was comfortable with anyone knowing. It looked like recognition. Not the recognition that Neil feared most--he knew that expression would resemble something more like horror--but the recognition of like finding like.

"You've never played before?" Kevin questioned. His eyes could peel the varnish from the floor beneath them. They could part the sea to inspect the shipwrecks within.

Neil shuttered himself with force that had him fumbling the racquet with a crack as it hit the floor. A hush fell over the Foxes who had already started stretching out.

"Sorry," Neil muttered. _Stupid. You're going to get yourself killed,_ his mother's voice warned. Neil plucked out a carefree laugh and answered Kevin as casually as he could. The other man was staring at the racquet on the ground as if it were a kicked puppy.

"Nah, I'm just a fan," Neil lied. "I might have picked a racquet up once or twice but I haven't had the chance to really play."

"I see," Kevin said slowly. "We'll start on beginner's drills then."

"After we warm up," Dan reminded them. "Come on, guys, stretch out. The rest of us are already done."

Everyone, it seemed, except Andrew, who sat on the home bench languidly with his eyes closed. The tilt of his head told Neil he was listening even if he was pretending not to pay attention. Kevin followed Neil's line of sight and scoffed.

"He won't play," Kevin groused. "He refuses."

"Why did he change out if isn't going to play?" Neil asked. Neil sloppily copied Kevin's movements as the other man stretched.

"It's a stubborn trick. I made him promise to gear up and join me on the court a while ago and he accepted. But he tells me he never promised to actually play. Stop," Kevin put a hand up and sighed heavily. "You're not doing it right. You'll pull something. Here."

Kevin rearranged Neil into the correct posture with clinical hands. "Ok now pull."

He led Neil through various stretches until Dan called them to stop and line up on the court for laps. Running was the closest thing to freedom Neil ever felt. As his legs took him, the dangers that were closing in on him every second he breathed slipped further away. The air that hit his face felt like a chance.

"Shit, Neil," Nicky panted as they slowed to a jog, then a walk. "Are you freaking Sonic the Hedgehog?"

"I told you," Kevin stated. "He's fast."

"Fast doesn't mean good. He's still a total amateur," Seth objected.

"Still," Matt said. "You're incredible. Where'd you learn to run like that?"

"Practice. The Infected don't get a chance to take a piece out of you if you outrun them," Neil divulged simply.

"That's true, I guess," Matt agreed.

"We'll see how we can use that speed on the offensive line after you get your feet wet," Dan offered. "It's going to be great having another body on our side."

"Not gonna help you, babe. We'll still own you guys," Matt challenged her.

"You wish. We've got national champion Kevin fucking Day and the Flash with us now. We're unstoppable," Dan retorted with a laugh.

"Not yet you don't. We promised Mom and Dad that we'd treat Neil with kid gloves today."

"Good luck with that," Allison inserted. "If Kevin the Overseer is the one teaching him how to play I bet at least half of Neil's stitches will break by the time we leave today."

"You bet? Really? What are you putting on the table?" Dan asked.

Neil tuned them out as they started bartering different chores, tasks, and helpings of food. Kevin also looked antsy to to get started so he led Neil away for drills. Kevin explained each one thoroughly before demonstrating, spouting off angles and possible scenarios as he did. It took everything in Neil to scale it down until he moved like he'd never seen someone play Exy before in his life.

When Kevin was satisfied that Neil could run through the exercises competently without forming bad habits too soon, he began to run them alongside Neil himself. It amazed Neil that even using his non-dominant hand, Kevin's accuracy and power were leagues above Neil's own. The two men weren't even comparable. It was like they were playing two different sports.

Dan called them all to a halt for an offense v defense scrimmage and the energy in the room immediately shifted. Neil's arms were already starting to ache and he left for the inner court so he could watch the Foxes play. What he saw at first was a mess, and it was mainly the two strikers' faults.

Kevin and Seth were at each other's throats almost constantly. Their playing styles were so different they could barely cooperate long enough to score. Dan was there to pull them together but that didn't ease the tension between them.

Seth was all aggression, forcing his way through the defense like a hurricane crushing the shoreline. His mouth often ran ahead of him with feverish blows, stirring his opponents up in his temper.

Kevin on the other hand was all finesse. He played like he was made for Exy. Every movement was a pane in a large stained glass window that you could only see from outside the game. Occasionally Kevin's right hand would fumble and the illusion would drop. Kevin's frustration with his own incompetence made him push himself even further.

Their passion for Exy was so tenacious it was a tangible thing. It drew everyone else in until they were all playing harder. Matt, in particular, was a beast of a backliner on the defensive line. He was wicked fast, and his height made him an immovable wall between the offense and the goal.

Neil couldn't believe he was able to witness Exy being played like this. Like it was the Foxes' last time on the court. Like they'd want nothing more than to be on it until their bodies stopped.

Then, Dan passed to Seth with practiced ease and Seth whipped his racquet down to score in the bottom corner of the net. He celebrated the victory with a lightning strike of a smile, breaking the harshness of his face into an expression Neil never expected to see on the other man. Kevin spared Seth a small fierce smile of his own and they clacked sticks.

This was what the foxes could have been. If they actually returned to Zone 1 in one piece, this is what they could still be.

Neil understood a little more why the Foxes would take such unfavorably stacked odds to make it back to Zone 1. If this was what they could have if they made it through, it would be worth it. But it was still something Neil could never have or be part of. Neil turned away at the bitter thought and spotted Andrew still idling on the bench. He walked over and sat down next to him. Andrew didn't make any move to give Neil more space, but it was fine. Neil was used to fitting in small places.

"Why aren't you playing?" Neil asked the other man. What he wanted to say was, _Why are you wasting your time on the bench when you could be part of_ that?

"It's a waste of my time," Andrew replied lazily as if if he'd heard Neil's thoughts. "Much like this conversation."

Neil brought his knee up and wrapped an arm around it, the leg of his shorts falling back and exposing his sweaty thigh to the cool air. Andrew's eyes dipped to watch Neil's hands fidget with the laces of his shoe.

"I don't get it," Neil started. "Why do you even come along? Why do you even stay?"

For a long moment Andrew said nothing, his gaze still focused on the restless movement of Neil's fingers. Neil thought he was being ignored until Andrew slowly raked his eyes upwards to look into Neil's own eyes directly. He analyzed Neil like he was taking him apart for reverse engineering. Neil made the unhelpful observation that there were faint golden flecks in Andrew's irises.

"I made a deal," Andrew answered flatly. There was a blunt end to his voice that stamped the conversation closed. Neil was curious what kind of deal could motivate such an inflexible man to follow Kevin's lead, but he knew that prying further would make Andrew close up more.

It wasn't long before Kevin and Seth were arguing again, their helmets almost knocking together as they screamed into each other's red faces. Dan got between them with a decisive shove and stubbed out their fight with a sharp admonition.

The scrimmage ended there in an unspoken unanimous decision. Andrew stood as the others piled off of the court and went to Kevin's side. Seth, who'd followed Kevin like he might finish their argument stopped short with a sneer upon seeing Andrew and veered away instead.

Nicky was hanging off of a mildly irritated Aaron who dragged the taller man to the benches with startling strength. Allison and Renee were discussing Renee's observations from in-goal on how Allison could improve as defensive dealer.

All of their guards were down, and it added to the strangeness of Neil's mood. Like Neil had been abducted from a world full of the bloodthirsty undead--and the even more bloodthirsty living--and placed instead in this world where he could play Exy with the Foxes without constant fear for his life.

The bizarreness stayed with Neil while the Foxes changed out, even as he hid his chest in a dark corner of the locker room. It stayed with him while they took a brief break for food and water. It even stayed with him while they walked back through the ravaged halls of the school. It felt like he was floating in someone else's body.

He was only shocked out of that displacement on the road when an urgent voice snapped, "Infected!"

Neil's instincts kicked in and he had his crowbar up and his feet spread in a ready fighting stance before his mind could catch up. The Foxes had formed up again, leaving Neil in the center of a protective circle. Through the gaps between shoulders Neil sighted out three Infected--probably Fleshies the way they were mostly intact but visibly decomposed. Fleshies could be just as dangerous as Roiders if they caught you unawares.

A gun cracked and a second one echoed the bang a second later. Two bodies fell to the asphalt of the road with appropriate splats. Neil almost didn't catch Renee flick her wrist in a wicked snap that sent a blade through the eye of the third.

Neil took an involuntary step away from her and felt his arms tremble as he watched Renee pull her knife out of what used to be a human head with the apathy of Death chilling her expression. He wondered what business a good Christian girl had knowing how to throw a knife that casually with such accuracy.

Neil steadied himself with a breath. There wasn't a Fox that didn't wear some face of violence. He needed to be wary of all of them--this was just a reminder. He already knew of smiling murderers who drowned you in words like sweet iced tea. Renee's face settled back into serenity as she tucked the throwing knife away.

"Too slow, Andrew," Renee teased. Neil glanced over and saw that Andrew was spinning his own throwing knife between his fingers.

"This time," Andrew said. The knife disappeared into one of his black armbands with a clever sleight of hand.

"Let's move," Dan commanded the group as she swept a meticulous eye over the foliage around them. Allison had her gun on the prone Infected as she carefully double-checked to make sure they were no longer a threat.

This was familiar. The adrenaline vibrating under Neil's skin. A message from the universe that their lives were still so fragile. It shifted the world back into view in a frame that made sense to Neil. The thrill of Exy and the open smiles of teammates discussing strategy weren't real. They were a fluke, a hiccup in the reality that Neil couldn't rest if he wanted to survive.

They made it back to camp at a faster clip now that they'd encountered a group of Infected. There was no knowing if the three Fleshies had strayed away from a larger group, a mob even, or if they'd traveled alone. All the Foxes knew was that they didn't want to be on the wrong side of their barricade to find out.

Dusk was wiping the sunlight from the sky when the Foxes trudged back into their base. The orange glow that wallpapered the Foxes' silhouettes as the sun set was fitting. It looked like they were wearing their jerseys home.

"Trouble?" Wymack guessed as they filtered in through the door. He looked like he'd had a long day himself.

"Just a handful of Infected on the way back. Three Fleshies," Dan said tiredly. "No injuries. That's two down on ammo though."

"Think they had company?" Wymack asked.

"Not sure. Couldn't see any in the area and we didn't run into any more on the road."

"Got it. We'll run thorough inspection on the wall and traps tomorrow just in case." Wymack ran a hand over his forehead then dropped it with a sigh. He gave them all a weary grin.

"Glad you lunatics made it back in one piece. Abby and I have some dinner prepped. You guys will like what we've got for dessert. Go make yourselves decent and be back here stat," Wymack ordered.

The Foxes split up for their rooms, already peeling off weapons and shoes. Neil made to return the crowbar to the miniature armory in the coat closet but Wymack stopped him.

"Keep that on you. We don't want anyone here with their pants around their ankles if anything happens," Wymack warned him.

"Right," Neil agreed with relief. It felt good to have some weapon of his own.

"You have anything else you can put on?" Wymack asked Neil suddenly. Neil looked down at his sweat-stained clothing and shrugged.

"I've worn worse," Neil admitted. Wymack didn't accept that response and shook his head.

"I'll see what else we can put together for you."

Neil didn't know what to do with that kindness offered. He didn't think he'd worked enough yet to deserve it.

"Thanks," Neil said awkwardly.

"Sure thing, kid," Wymack dismissed Neil's gratitude softly. "It's as much for me as it is you. I don't want the smell to put me off my dinner."

It turned out that there was a collective heap of unwanted clothing the Foxes had scrounged up for Neil to choose from. He sorted through an eclectic variation of outfits until he found a loose dark gray t-shirt and another pair of short athletic shorts. These ones were dark blue, though, which made Neil look less like a mobile traffic cone.

Neil made it to dinner after everyone else had arrived. Several different conversations threaded through the room like the Foxes' spirits had lifted since meeting up with the three Infected earlier. Neil sat down next to Aaron again, relieved that there was no attempt at conversation from the sullen man.

Plates of food had already been set out. As soon as Neil situated himself, people began to dig in. Neil noticed that both Nicky and Renee had their heads bowed in prayer before they ate their portions. Renee's piety was not surprising (although it was confusing), but Nicky's was. Neil would not have expected religious devotion from someone whose mouth often leaned more towards heathenism.

The meal was as good as it could get, Neil supposed. There was a goopy puddle of beef stew paired with chopped up pieces of a brick of ramen noodles. There was an off taste to it like it might have met its expiration date and kept going but Neil had eaten worse before and he really wouldn't waste the food before him.

The alcohol that Wymack denied existing this morning made an appearance after dishes had been rounded up and stomachs sated. The noise in the room grew to a point that it unaccountably made Neil hotter. He sipped at some of his water to cool off but it didn't help.

Fatigue caught up to Wymack and Abby, or they wanted to give the Foxes space to let loose, and they retired to their rooms for the night. The Foxes moved to the parlor and sprawled out on various worn pieces of furniture.

Neil was rapidly feeling overwhelmed by the raucous company and got up to get some air. He stood too quickly and vertigo tipped the world like someone was rattling it inside a snow globe.  
Before Neil could get anywhere, Kevin cornered him by the wall. His cheeks were flushed from the copious shots of vodka he'd sank earlier but his green eyes had laser-focus as he spoke.

"You've played Exy before," Kevin worked out. His head lolled like it was too heavy to keep up but his attention didn't waver. "When?"

The dizziness increased at this confrontation. Neil had to swallow around a dry mouth several times.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Neil said carefully. He felt like his mind was undoing itself and speaking clearly took effort. Dread sank into his stomach. Something was happening to him.

"I can tell," Kevin insisted. "I know Exy better than I know how to breathe."

Neil caught movement below in his periphery and saw that Kevin was flexing his left hand. Thin lines of white scars crisscrossed over the tanned skin there. Neil had heard that Kevin broke his dominant hand in a skiing accident a year before the Outbreak, destroying his Exy career. The tragic injury was what sent him running from the top team in Class I Exy (The Edgar Allen Ravens) to the worst.

Neil was mesmerized by the sight of those scars. His face loosened and he couldn't look away. That these wounds were the cause of Kevin's fall from grace gave them disquieting magnetism. Kevin had to look at them every day and regret that one accident could unravel his entire life beneath him.

Neil suddenly felt sick.

"I need to go," he blurted. He wrenched himself away from Kevin's accusatory stare and bolted unsteadily outside.

The humid air outside was only a slight relief. Neil was gulping in breaths of it like he'd forgotten how to inhale normally. He bent over with his hands on his knees. The world was still spinning. His thoughts were racing themselves in circles.

"Feeling unwell?" A voice inquired through the haze in his head. "Maybe it was something you ate."

The flat of a palm shoved at Neil and he was suddenly sprawled out on the ground trying to understand how the laws of physics were twisting up around him. Andrew stared dispassionately down at him. He had clinical eyes like the doctor Neil's father had often paid to patch up the bloody pieces leftover after taking his temper out of Neil's skin. The doctor who'd never said a word about it to anyone else.

"Fuck you," Neil spat through the cotton in his mouth.

"Don't think so," Andrew replied.

"What did you do to me?"

"Added a little spice to tonight's special. Something to cut through all the lies you've been trying to pawn off," Andrew explained.

"Why? What do you even want from me?" Neil was struggling to right himself.

"Tell me, _Neil_ , why does a lonely nobody like yourself look at Kevin like he's salvation and the Devil all wrapped up in one? How does some starved outcast in Zone 2 play Exy like he's chasing the same high our one-armed junkie is so desperate to find? I don't trust you. You're a problem that isn't adding up, and I don't let problems near my things," Andrew interrogated.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Neil hissed. "I didn't even want to join you."

"And yet you still did. Like I said. You don't add up."

"I'm not some math problem. You couldn't just ask?"

"You and I both know that would have gotten us nowhere. Tell me what you're really doing here--why you followed us back here."

"I wasn't following you for fuck's sake!"  
  
Andrew crouched down and slid a knife out from a concealed sheathe around his ankle. Neil's chest constricted and he scrabbled backward ineffectually on the ground. He could see his father's hands around the hilt of the blade. The edge was razor sharp and shone like his father's sick smile.

"You understand? Start telling the truth or I'll cut it out of you," Andrew vowed.

Andrew's eyes were black in the darkness. Neil had never seen someone so vacant promise death with such purpose. Andrew pinned Neil's shoulder down and pressed the knife over Neil's exposed collarbone. It was only enough pressure to let Neil know any movement would slit him open.

"Talk, Neil," Andrew commanded.

Neil remembered the cold cut of Andrew's voice as he spoke, and then nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a wholeee bunch of world-building written out but it's mostly exposition and I'm thinking I'd like to reveal it more throughout scenes in the story. If you think I should explain the world in this AU better (the progression of the Outbreak and more on how the two zones work) I can probably work in a clearer explanation. The rest I was going to write is just about Neil's past which will probably be revealed in pieces later. We all kind of know how it goes down.
> 
> This is probably the last you'll see of Exy (in detail), but I really couldn't help myself from adding at least a little in. 
> 
> Again thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! It's really nice to hear from all of you. I love the aftg community so much you guys are amazing! Hope you're enjoying it so far. This chapter was pretty chill (I wanted to get a chance to write out the Foxes without rushing) but next chapter is going to start the exciting stuff which means it'll have a bit more action and probably more blood and gore, just a heads up!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! I've been pretty busy so I'll probably have to limit the time I have to write. Thank you for being patient while I finished this chapter!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> **Warnings: mention of self harm & descriptions of depression

Morning was always the same for Andrew. It felt like waking up in a bog and pulling himself up through the muck into the smoggy air above. His chest was always heavy and his mouth dry. Sometimes Andrew woke up like a bear trap, snapping into consciousness viciously and lashing out at the nearest offending body. Even then, his body would ache from the tedium of being awake.  
  
This morning, Andrew ached because he'd underestimated a frightened rabbit and it had somehow gotten the jump on him. The feeling of Neil twisting Andrew's wrist expertly to divert the knife pressing down on him brought back the ghost of unpleasant memories. It made the blow Andrew had taken to the back of his head when he'd been knocked back throb like the start of a migraine.  
  
Andrew ignored the pain in his wrist and head. He took those memories and submerged himself in them. Andrew could recall everything that had been done to him with perfect clarity. But thinking of those things now was like examining the events of someone else's life. Each time they played through his mind he cut off another weakness inside himself and cauterized what was left. He'd done this enough times that there was nothing left but a stain of ash.  
  
Andrew had oversimplified the issue that was Neil yesterday and he now had to run damage control to deal with the consequences. It hadn't been simple finding the drugs, but it had been simple getting Nicky to hand them over. It had been even simpler to get Aaron to dose Neil's dinner with them. Only the subject of all this attention had proven a flaw in Andrew's calculations.  
  
Andrew hadn't expected the skittish recruit to bite back. There was a dull flicker in the heart of his migraine that Andrew might once have called interest. It was inconsequential. It would stamp itself out before Andrew put Neil six feet under.  
  
The rote of getting dressed and gathering the idiots for breakfast was a chore in its dullness. Nicky was more talkative than usual which gave away his guilt at tricking Neil. Kevin was severely hungover and was responding to Nicky's chatter with shorter and shorter answers. His fingers were massaging his temples deeply by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs.  
  
Wymack and Abby were waiting at the table with the bluster of suburban parents watching their wasted children stumble home after a night of delinquency. Abby's mouth was pursed so thin her lips were white.  
  
"If you had something to do with last night's debacle--" Wymack started.  
  
"So biased, Coach," Andrew cut in. "Why aren't you having the 'you're grounded, go to your room' speech with Gordon? He's the one who put a bump on Neil's head."  
  
The infuriating ingenuity of Neil provoking Gordon until the drunken asshole had punched him hard enough to knock him out was also a convenient scapegoat for Andrew to milk.  
  
"Don't try that with me. Something was off--Dan said he was high out of his mind. If this is a repeat of what happened with Matt I'll kick all of your asses and leave you out for the Infected," Wymack threatened. It was a very hollow threat, in Andrew's opinion. He'd never abandon them to be eaten alive.  
  
"Awe c'mon coach, Neil probably just had a little too much to drink. How would we even pull that off? There's no way we'd get our hands on speedballs in bumfuck, Zone 2," Nicky appealed.  
  
Something thunked behind them and Andrew turned to see the devil himself looking much worse for wear. An ugly bruise was painted up the side of Neil's head, and dark bags clung the the bottom lid of his icy blue eyes. They were the eyes of a specter. The look Neil shot Andrew gave him a thrill that made him want to gouge them out.  
  
"Neil," Wymack said. He looked a little thrown to see the battered man awake and walking on his own two feet.  
  
"Morning," Neil rasped. Andrew noted that he was probably dehydrated from last night. Neil maintained his thin nonchalant act and slunk into the room. He slipped past Andrew with a baleful glare and stepped into the kitchen.  
  
Well. Andrew wasn't one to let a challenge like that slide. He made a move to follow but Wymack grabbed him by the arm before he could get far.  
  
"I'm not done talking to you," Wymack said in his best Coach voice. Andrew felt his mind sever itself at the touch and he looked down at Wymack's hand with silent detachment. Wymack's knuckles were wide from being broken at least once, he noted.  
  
Wymack let go as if scalded, but he didn't ease the intent in his eyes. Andrew pulled himself back to the room and stepped away from him.  
  
"Andrew," Wymack warned, "I'm not letting you hurt him. If you're going to talk to him, fine. But you're not doing it alone."  
  
"We'll be there, too, Coach," Nicky said unhelpfully. Wymack snorted predictably at the idiotic attempt to appease him.  
  
"Yeah, I can trust you guys to stop him," Wymack replied with heavy sarcasm, "Listen, you're going to get over whatever shit you have with him and be done with it. We can't afford to screw around like this. Not out here."  
  
"We can't 'screw around' with someone who might kill us all in our sleep," Andrew shot back, "Really, Coach, what were you thinking, letting him stay here?"  
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Wymack asked in irritation.  
  
The kitchen door swung open and revealed Neil holding a glass of water. Convenient timing, Andrew thought.  
  
"I need to talk to you," Neil addressed Andrew. His hands were unsteady on the glass but he didn't look intimidated at the thought of a continuation of last night's conversation. "Alone."

  
Andrew gave Wymack a look that said, See? The other man crossed his arms and set his feet stubbornly in response.

Neil glanced uncomfortably around at the sudden statues populating the room. He wanted much less company for whatever story he was about to sell them. Wymack caught on and shooed them out.  
  
"Me and the psycho brat here only," Wymack ordered them. Abby looked like she was going to argue, shooting Neil's rumpled state very obvious looks of concern, but Wymack shook his head and she gave in. The others filed out obediently.  
  
Andrew waited until the door closed behind them and spread his arms. Neil was observing him with an open expression of distrust. He had no right to pout like he'd been betrayed. How foolish had he been to place any amount of trust in a Fox, especially Andrew.  
  
"Talk, then," he said. Neil opened his mouth and Andrew interrupted, "The truth this time, _Neil_ ~~~~ _."_

Neil's mouth went crooked in frustration and he took a drink from his glass as if to stall. He sent a shifty look at Wymack and squirmed. He seemed to come to some sort of decision and set his mouth firmly before speaking. Andrew was surprised at the sound of the perfectly accented German that fell from Neil's lips. He didn't like being surprised.  
  
"Why did you drug me last night? How could you attack Nicky for threatening to rape me, but then condone drugging me out of my mind?" Neil spit out angrily.

  
"His list of talents expands. Did nobody tell you I hate being surprised?" Andrew replied.

Neil didn't say anything, his hungover gaze pressing Andrew.

"Those are two separate matters entirely," Andrew said in response to Neil's earlier question.

 He didn't like the taste in his mouth at the implication of Neil's words. But he swallowed it without hesitation.  
  
"I can't trust you with my things. You're a threat that needs to be cut out." To emphasize, Andrew pulled out one of his knives and ran a lazy finger along its edge.

  
"Whoa, there," Wymack intervened, as if that meant anything at this moment. Andrew tucked the knife away to humor the man nonetheless. From the tight expression on Neil's face, Andrew knew his point had gotten across.

"Tell me what I wanted to know before you threw your little tantrum last night," Andrew demanded.

  
Andrew watched Neil's jaw work painfully like he was getting glass out from in between of his teeth. His nostrils flared as if he were fighting to keep himself from throwing up. Andrew knew that the truth was finally forcing its ugly head out.  
  
"I do know Kevin. Or I did," Neil admitted. Andrew tensed imperceptibly. He'd been right. "But I only met him once when I was a child. My parents ran business in the same circles as the people who owned the stadium Kevin played at." The people who'd adopted Kevin after his mother's death, Neil didn't need to say.  
  
"The Moriyamas," Andrew said flatly. Wymack coughed in surprise at the sound of the name and Neil appraised the two of them with calculating eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but his eyebrows furrowed together and Andrew could tell he was forming another lie.  
  
Andrew understood fighting. He knew that it was important to act faster than his opponent. Speaking with Neil was like fighting. Every word they said to each other was another blow, block, or hold. He weighed what he needed to say to get the most information from Neil with what was safe to admit to this outsider.  
  
Neil's family did business with the Moriyamas? Did it mean they were also criminals, or were they just affiliated with the Exy world? Andrew knew that the Moriyama influence was so entangled in Exy that nothing in the sport could be separated from their bloody hands without uprooting the whole damn system.  
  
"They were one of the strongest criminal organizations in the world. They made it to Zone 1." Andrew went straight for the throat. Fuck it. Risk was something Andrew wasn't afraid of. Not if he couldn't kill the risk before it got out of hand. The flicker in Neil's eyes was unreadable.

"And what does that make you, Neil?" Andrew followed up, "I'll tell you already, I won't like the answer."

There was a tense pause.

"My father," Neil started. His eyes swept upward and then closed like he couldn't believe himself for saying anything. Or like he was backed into a corner and knew it.

"My father worked for the Moriyamas--low level. He ran numbers for them for a few of their fronts. He," Neil paused, his ghostly blue eyes meeting Andrew's, "was stupid. He was skimming off some of their payments, thought he could cover it up, but they caught him. They came to our house one day and killed my parents. I saw everything. I grabbed as much of the stolen money as I could and ran as far away as possible. Here."

Neil was smiling now. It was a vulgar upturn of his lips that looked like someone was yanking them up at the corners. Too many teeth showed, like he wanted to bite down on something until he broke skin. It was too familiar to Andrew.

This was Neil broken open and bleeding out. But his sad little story was just another Fox rap sheet for Wymack to cry over. Andrew wasn't interested in tragedy. Tragedy was boring. This wasn't enough. Andrew needed to dig his hands into Neil's bleeding heart and split it open deeper.

"Why here?" Andrew asked. He could ask if 'here' meant Zone 2, or the Foxes, but it didn't matter. Either answer proved Neil was foolish.

Neil responded by digging his fingers into his lips like he was trying to remove them with his own bare hands. His eyes were looking past Andrew now. Looking at someone who wasn't in the room with them. Andrew was annoyed at that lack of focus. He peeled Neil's fingers off hand by hand and pushed them away so he could see the truth splayed across Neil's face.

"Why did you stay?" Andrew pressed.

"Because I'm tired," Neil admitted, "I've been alone for so long and I can't do it anymore. I have nowhere else to go and I'm too jealous of Kevin to stay away from him. Even though I know the risk." Neil was staring at his palms. They were shaking.

"We came from similar backgrounds. He even ended up in Zone 2 after the Outbreak while I--" Neil cut himself off, bit his lip. "He knows what it's like to wake up afraid every day, but he's got you at his back telling him everything's going to be okay. He has the Foxes. He has everything, even when he's lost everything, and I'm--" Neil clenched his hands. He looked like he didn't want to say another word, but he took a breath and continued.

"I'm nothing," Neil confessed, "I'll always have and be nothing."

Andrew didn't want to understand the idiot in front of him. He didn't want to recognize the empty look in Neil's eyes. Andrew didn't want anything.

"Let me stay," Neil pleaded in quiet German, "I'm not ready to give this up yet."

Andrew felt indifference come back over him like water filling in a footstep. He had seen enough of Neil to know he wasn't here on Riko's behalf. He was just another sad stray crawling to the Foxes for the last chance none of them ever admitted to needing.

"Keep it if you can. You and I both know it won't last long," Andrew allowed. Either the Infested or the Moriyamas would get him sooner than later.

The relief in Neil's eyes was disgusting.

"I'll be gone by the time you guys reach Zone 1. I can't risk going back there for the Moriyamas to find me," Neil said.

"Such an unexpected will to survive from someone who has nothing to live for," Andrew observed, "Next time we have a little heart-to-heart like this, maybe I'll ask you to justify that."

"Let's not talk like this ever again," Neil replied, weary.

"Let's not," Andrew agreed.

Neil made a face like he was swallowing bitter medicine. Andrew understood why when he asked, "Are you going to tell them?"

Irritation threatened to break through the mud between Andrew and the rest of the world.

"Don't ask me stupid questions."

Again that sickening relief eased some of the tension in Neil's face. He sucked in an unsteady breath and closed his eyes. Andrew shucked the sight from his eyes and turned to Wymack instead.

"I'm leaving," he said in English.

Wymack, who'd been watching the conversation with a manner bordering between indignation and confusion, raised his eyebrows in shock.

"The fuck you are," Wymack said, "I still want to know what happened last night."

"Nothing," Neil answered before Andrew could respond, "Just a misunderstanding."

Wymack gave Neil a long hard look that said he knew exactly how large that crock of bullshit was. Neil avoided his eyes, hunched over like he could disappear into the floorboards.

"See, Coach?" Andrew said. The 'bullshit' look swiveled to him instead. Andrew ignored it and left. Neil was someone else's problem now. Andrew would focus on the ones he had already.

* * *

 

The next week passed uneventfully as most weeks in Andrew's life had. It was the same routine of dragging himself through the day to accomplish whatever mundane tasks people expected of him. The Foxes moved around his periphery, complaining about the same things they always complained about, celebrating the same things they always celebrated, and going through the same fights they always did.

Neil healed and was added full time to their roster. He adapted to working quickly, as Andrew expected him to. And he was as awkward about the Foxes' attempts to befriend him as Andrew had expected him to be. He still sometimes wore that distracting outfit he'd donned his first day walking around camp. Today, in fact, his thighs were particularly distracting in those stupid orange shorts as he crouched down to inspect some of the perimeter traps.

Kevin was chattering about the mechanics of the traps to Neil--the specifics of which Andrew recalled in their entirety even if he hadn't wanted to. Neil swiped a trickle of sweat from his upper lip as he listened. Andrew turned his attention elsewhere.

Insect-life had continued to thrive in the abandoned wasteland of South Carolina after the Outbreak. Andrew was reminded of this fact as gnats circled him in a cloud and made his skin itch where they landed. He felt sweat pooling at the curve of his back and under the bands on his arms. He refused to be annoyed by it.

They continued their sweep of the perimeter efficiently without issue. Lunch was waiting for them inside, along with most of the Foxes who were discussing some trivial matter or another. Andrew sat without comment. He picked apart the contents of his plate until they became bite-sized portions.

When they finished eating, Wymack began outlining the details of this week's raid. Andrew already knew he'd been assigned to it, along with Kevin, Reynolds, and Gordon. It was just to a corner store a few miles out. They'd hit it once already and there was a likelihood nobody else had found it. Living bodies were sparse in Zone 2. Most of its occupants preferred to consume solely carrion. 

Wymack was predictable as ever when he asked Neil to join them on the raid. It would have been easier on Neil to go with the other upperclassmen--bleeding hearts were always soft with each other--who would be overly protective and friendly. But Wymack wanted Neil integrated into camp as quickly as possible, which meant pulling his weight and braving the Infected as quickly as possible.

"If you're still not feeling up to it, you can go with Renee and Dan next week," Wymack offered.

"I'll be fine," Neil insisted. Andrew could sense the other Foxes exchanging the loaded looks of gamblers closing a bet.

Fine, fine, fine. If Andrew had to hear that banal word one more time he might have to burn it off of Neil's tongue. 

"Good. You guys can leave early tomorrow and be back by evening. It'll be a quick stop and go. Don't deviate or twiddle your thumbs." Wymack gave each of them, particularly Reynolds, very pointed looks. 

"Now, who wants to take early patrol Sunday through Wednesday next week?" Wymack asked the group. And on it went. Andrew contributed nothing to their strategizing. They could work out the trivialities without him and he'd complete whatever menial tasks they'd give him as long as he could keep an eye on Kevin.  
  
Lunch broke up to afternoon chores which put Andrew, Kevin, and Nicky outside for shower maintenance. This involved a lot of scrubbing and patching, and wading through grime and dampness. The sun was merciless as it scorched across Andrew's fair skin. Thanks to poor genetics, Andrew never tanned. He just burned. He could feel the sting on the back of his neck already.  
  
"Fuuuuck," Nicky whined as he leaned back from scouring the shower head of its mildew. The thing was hooked up to a hose that didn't quite fit and the leak that resulted created a build up of gunk around the metal.  
  
"Hey, Kev," Nicky started. Kevin continued wiping the hem of the shower curtain down and sighed audibly.  
  
"What."  
  
"If you could have any superpower what would it be?"  
  
"Nicky, what the fuck are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm bored. Humor me?"  
  
Kevin shook the rag he was using out roughly and scratched at a trickle of sweat on his ankle.   
  
"Time travel," Kevin grunted. He wasn't staring at his broken hand like Andrew expected him to be.   
  
There was a large spot of sweat pressed into the material of Kevin's shirt. Andrew watched it squirm as Kevin rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.  
  
"What year would you go back to if you could?" Nicky bulled on, desperate for conversation.  
  
Kevin sat back with Nicky and the corner of his mouth tipped up fractionally in a soft smile. It was strange to see Kevin relax.  He was usually prone to cowering, still trapped under the shadow of Riko's thumb. Even the nights he got wasted on cheap vodka were mostly spent biting his fingernails off and spinning in mental spirals of dread.  
  
"There's no limit to the time periods I'd go to," Kevin admitted. Then he did look at his hand, but not with disappointment.   
  
"Maybe--Maybe if I really had to pick, I'd meet my mom," Kevin said quietly. Nicky put a hand on his back and grinned as he rubbed Kevin's shoulder.  
  
"That's a good answer," Nicky said, "Me, though, I think if I could have any superpower it'd be flying. I could fly to Erik."  
  
"Not teleportation?"  
  
"Nah." Nicky's smile turned into something gentle. He didn't elaborate.  
  
Nicky stretched out and went back to scrubbing the shower head. Kevin took his rag and wiped dirty smears from the curtain. Insects chattered around them and the sun continued to cook them alive. It was quiet for a while longer.

* * *

Thick weight on his chest, dry mouth, headache. Andrew was aware and conscious the second he woke. Gray light made everything in the room pale in stripes where it slit through the blinds. Andrew shoved his covers away and sat up.   
  
Andrew was made of slate. He couldn't move. He stared at the pale skin of his forearms rested over his knees in front of him. Messy scars cluttered the skin there like the tangle of a briar bush. Some were ancient, inscribed from another life. Some were raised and dark. Andrew picked them apart--he could remember the moment of every single slash--and waited for his mind to connect to the faculties of his body.

Bee would have told him so focus on his breaths.  
  
The air was heavy, the prognosis of a humid day, and sweat still anointed him from feverish sleep. Andrew ticked down the list of reasons he needed to move from the edge of this bed.   
  
In the dozens of homes, families, and neighborhoods Andrew had lived in he'd learned one thing: Nobody made promises they could keep. Sometimes, they were formed with good intentions but those who made them could not withstand their mass. Those promises always fell through messily. Sometimes, they were made with specific intention of being broken, to savor the reaction it curried.  
  
Most times, promises were simply forgotten. But Andrew could not forget anything. He could recall the promises made to him down to the smallest detail of the moment. The volume of their voice. The smell of their breath. The shade of light that colored their eyes.  
  
Andrew refused to be like any of them. They were pitiful creatures whose worthless broken vows once made bile crawl up his throat. Andrew made a point to keep every deal he made if only out of spite.  
  
Andrew's fingers clenched and unclenched until he could feel his body again. Then, he pulled his black armbands over the scars and slid the knives under his pillow underneath them. He breathed in deeply through his nose and stood.   
  
Aaron was awake and waiting for him in the hallway like the shadow he was. Ever since losing his cheerleader in the Outbreak, his presence had become even more threadbare. Andrew had warned his twin about attaching himself to another woman. The disaster wrought from the first one he'd loved should have been lesson enough.  
  
Aaron threw a chewed-up Exy ball hard at Kevin's door until he emerged, disoriented and pissed, to stop the noise. The obsessive man couldn't ignore the thud of an Exy ball, no matter how heavily he slept. The ball Aaron hadn't stopped himself from chucking was caught by Kevin out of reflex. He squeezed it tightly with a sleepy glare.   
  
"What's all the noise about?" Nicky emerged from his and Aaron's room. His words slurred with tiredness and he was still rubbing crust from the corners of his eyes.   
  
"Finally," Aaron complained, "Let's go eat."  
  
Andrew ignored him and moved down the stairs first. They creaked noisily as the others followed him. Voices from the second floor warned them that the rest of the Foxes were awake. Andrew brushed past them.  
  
Renee was making Neil uncomfortable when they reached the dining room. Andrew could tell she was trying very hard not to, but it wasn't something she could control. Neil had the same instincts Andrew'd had about Renee when they'd first met. He knew she was more dangerous than her outward appearance revealed.  
  
"Thank you, Neil," Renee said kindly as he passed her one of the plates of congealed rations he was carrying.   
  
Abby hurried into the room with her own collection of dishes. She set them down around the table expertly and took her seat next to Wymack. The two of them leaned toward one another without thought. They were drawn to each other intimately, even if that attraction never met.   
  
Andrew sat in his usual seat to a plate of canned chicken accompanied by a spoonful of mixed vegetables. He took the spoon set out for him and divided everything into small portions.   
  
The Foxes arrived with their usual clamor. Reynolds and Gordon clung to each other like barnacles. She had her fingers wrapped around his upper arm, and he had his hand around her waist. Maybe Gordon would be less obnoxious than usual if he was distracted by Reynolds.  
  
"No," Boyd was insisting as they ate, "Blastoise is the obvious choice."  
  
"Fucking Charizard, man, are you serious?" Gordon argued with his mouth full.  
  
"Blastoise. Has. Cannons."  
  
"Charizard is literally a dragon. It can fly. It can freaking breathe fire!"  
  
"Technically, Charizard isn't Dragon-type. It's Fire and Flying."  
  
"The fuck? No way. Nope. Charizard is a dragon."

Gordon looked to the others around the table as if waiting for them to support his argument. Andrew knew he was wrong. Another useless fact stored in his memory.  
  
Wilds shrugged when Gordon looked at her and said, "I don't really remember, sorry."  
  
"You're kidding me."  
  
"Babe, stop spitting your food everywhere," Reynolds admonished.  
  
When she and Gordon were on she was all over him like a confused combination of domestic fantasy and sexual depravity. Andrew knew it was just that she liked playing roles to perfection. No housewife stereotype could check someone so hard they didn't just bruise themselves, they bruised the court as they hit it.  
  
Gordon responded by opening his chewed mouthful of food for a full view.  
  
"Ew, stop," Reynolds whined. She pushed his shoulder and he waggled his eyebrows at her before obeying and finishing his plate with proper table manners.  
  
"Business," Wymack said as they finished up. Aaron got up silently to collect the dishes and take them out back for a wash.  
  
"Allison's taking lead for today's raid. She and Seth will be your guns. Neil, you remember where we keep our weapons? Take what you're comfortable with. What you can carry. You guys know how it works. Watch each other's backs and keep it together until you make it back," Wymack ordered. He pulled out a travel map of the area and set it out on the table. It was stained in some places, and tattered at the edges.  
  
"We've hit this stop before. Kevin, Andrew, you'll remember the route. Just to recap, you follow this path." Wymack drew a line with his finger over the map. Neil was taking apart the entire image with his eyes, a furrow of concentration between his eyebrows.   
  
"Neil, stick to the middle of the group. You're only there to get your feet wet. Allison and Seth should take out anything before it reaches you. Andrew will cover what they miss. You guys go in, load up, and break if you need to. The second you're ready, you leave. Got it?"  
  
Andrew guessed whatever expressions they made collectively gave Wymack the answer he needed as he nodded and folded up the map.  
  
"If you run into trouble get back here ASAP. If you can't make it back, find a safe house and wait it out til morning," Wymack closed the same way he always did.  
  
The five of them were dismissed to pack up to leave. Andrew slid the strap of his nearly empty backpack over one shoulder in his room. The beaten Exy racquet he preferred was leaning against the wall by his bed. There was a chip in the paint where he'd dinged it with the head of the racquet carelessly a few times. Andrew pulled it away from the wall and headed downstairs.  
  
Kevin eyed the racquet like a priest hearing blasphemy. That expression was the reason Andrew kept lugging the stupid stick around. It was a challenge, a reminder that Kevin had a promise to keep and he was severely lagging. Andrew spun it in his hand.  
  
Neil wisped into the hallway in that creepy way of his. Andrew could always tell when Neil slipped into a room, but others weren't as quick to catch on. Andrew had witnessed multiple times one of the Foxes jumping when they finally noticed him nearby.  
  
Neil was wearing a loose gray shirt and tight black shorts that Andrew could objectively appreciate. The battered duffel he carried with him like he'd been born holding it hung from one of his shoulders. In one hand, he held the crowbar he'd taken that day they'd visited the court. Neil pretended to be a bland, nondescript man but he had habits that made him something more solid than he believed himself to be.  
  
Reynolds and Gordon joined them soon after Neil.  Gordon carried a rifle slung across his back while Reynolds had a handgun clipped to her belt. Every one of the Foxes was a decent enough shot, but Reynolds was the best among all of them. Her family had her trained to use a gun at a young age for their hunting trips. Rich, white families like the Reynolds went on hunting trips. Wilds was a close second for her deadly aim. Andrew preferred knives, and he might have been the best at using them if not for Renee.  
  
Reynolds took command naturally and stepped in front of all of them to run a critical eye over what they carried. She pulled a can out of her bag and handed it to Kevin. He took it and stuffed it in his own bag. She repeated the gesture for both Andrew and Neil. It was Wymack's protocol that they each carried their own food in case they got separated.  
  
"Ready?" Reynolds asked. She didn't wait for an answer before pushing out the front door.   
  
Andrew jimmied the front gate open with ease. He noticed Neil watching his hands work keenly and wondered if his criminal parents had ever taught him such low level crimes as breaking and entering.   
  
The sky was uncharacteristically gray from horizon to horizon. In the South that meant rain was a guarantee. Whether it would be a quick, heavy downpour, or a steady drizzle could not be gauged just yet. Either way, they'd get soaked at some point in their journey.  
  
Reynolds led them out onto the road, pulling the gun off her belt and holding it low and ready. Andrew made sure to stay behind Kevin which put him behind Neil as well. Gordon picked up the rear, his rifle cradled in one arm lazily.   
  
They moved at a reserved pace, senses spread like a spider's web in case something approached them. Other than Neil, and a dozen or so others the few days following the Outbreak, the Foxes hadn't encountered any living humans in Zone 2. So, unexpected company had a high chance of being the undead and ravenous sort.  
  
It took a little over an hour by Andrew's estimation to reach the store. The clouds had thickened to a dark gray and loomed over them like a held breath. Andrew anticipated it coming down hard, and soon.  
  
Streets of empty buildings lined their way like a crooked mouthful of teeth. Signs of the violence brought on by the Outbreak vandalized the scene around them in broken windows and picked-apart corpses of the long dead.

The store was named after some family, the same family who'd probably inherited it generation by generation so they could sell nicotine and Twinkies to tourists and locals. The lit sign that used to pollute the night sky was now dark and cracked.

Cigarettes were considered a wasteful expense before the undead took over the South, and now they were a luxury. As they stepped slowly into the abandoned store, Andrew noted the counter and the pillaged shelves of different cigarettes. He broke off from the group to swipe most of the remaining packs. He could toss the more vile brands later.

Reynolds led them to the shelves of food. They still bore well-preserved goods--ramen, soup, spam, and more sprouted along the shelves sporadically. They all plucked as much as they could carry.

The unmistakable sound of rain pounded down on the roof. It was a persistent percussion that reminded Andrew of the time he'd missed his school bus in the fourth grade. Instead of returning to his foster parents at the time, he'd waited out a storm under the bus stop shelter. The few hours of calm solitude spent listening to the rainfall had been worth the punishment.

Reynolds heard the rain as well and bit her lip as she deliberated something.

"Quick sweep of the place and we'll leave," She decided. She left her bag open and led them up the first aisle.

It was a small establishment so it didn't take long to walk through it. Kevin snatched a handle of vodka, predictably, as they passed the liquor and Andrew grabbed some cheap whiskey. Reynolds pulled a handful of cosmetics from the shelves, probably for her and Wilds. Gordon didn't take anything extra at all.

There were still some rolls of toilet paper in the limited housewares aisle and Reynolds cried out in glee when she spotted them. She ran over and started stuffing rolls into her bag until it was bursting. She shoved the rolls into Gordon's, then Neil's, before tossing some at Kevin and Andrew.

"You assholes. Why didn't you tell us there was toilet paper here?" Reynolds sniped at them.

"We were supposed to just get food," Kevin retorted, "and we're still just supposed to get food."

"Oh my god, you're seriously a robot. If you find shit like this you can bring it back without shorting your circuits. Now grab as much as you can," Reynolds snapped.

Andrew didn't care for being ordered about so he dropped the rolls she'd thrown him to the dirty floor. The look she gave him could have peeled the skin from anyone else, but to Andrew it was nothing. He kicked some of the rolls as he left the aisle.

The rain didn't let up. It looked like it was  thickening into a storm. Water sprayed into the store where the glass was missing in jagged points in the windows. 

Either they would wait out the storm here and risk being exposed outside camp longer or they would make a run for it. Kevin stepped up beside Andrew and watched the rain nervously.

Reynolds was combing a hand through her frizzing hair with irritation when she joined them by the front of the store. She saw the rain pouring down and scowled. Her fingers tapped along the strap of her pack restlessly.

"Wymack wanted us back by the evening," Kevin told her as she thought, "It's just rain."

"Our visibility will be worse. We won't hear something approaching, either. And some of our supplies could be compromised," Reynolds replied logically.

"We shouldn't stay out here too long."

"Keep your panties on, it won't take too long to let up."

Gordon came up behind Reynolds and squeezed her waist. He smiled into her hair and whispered something that made her arch an eyebrow. 

"We're going to see if there's anything else we missed," Gordon lied. His thumb was rubbing a circle over the material of Reynolds' shirt. Kevin snorted as they slunk away.

Neil appeared near Kevin, running a hand idly up his crowbar as his serious eyes observed the view outside. He pulled his bottom lip in without thinking and chewed it lightly. When he released it, his lip became a wet red from the attention. Andrew itched to feel something break under his knuckles. Maybe he could spar with Renee when he got back.

Neil caught Andrew watching and his lashes lowered as he tilted his chin up and affected a challenging stare. Andrew's expression didn't change from its stony indifference under Neil's scrutiny. Neither looked away until Kevin spoke.

"Do you see that?" His voice was quiet and shaking.

Andrew turned to the windows and saw dark figures wriggling between the buildings further away. Behind the thick curtains of rain they looked like shadows. 

Andrew reacted quickly. He grabbed the arm of Kevin's shirt roughly and pulled him to the back of the store. Neil was backpedaling similarly, knocking things to the floor as he went to create a field of obstacles.

"Mob!" Kevin hollered to warn Reynolds and Gordon.

Neil was fast. Andrew had seen it before, but he was reminded as the small man bolted to the back door and put an ear to it. His face was calm, like he was running through some innate protocol on autopilot. 

Reynolds and Gordon crashed from the aisles to meet them.

"How many?" Reynolds asked breathlessly. Her shirt and hair were disheveled but her gun sat ready in her grip.

"Not sure," Kevin answered. Neil cracked the door open and peered out. "A lot."

Gordon cursed and ran a hand over his head anxiously.

"What are they?" Reynolds asked.

"They're moving fast enough to be at least Fleshies," Neil told her, "Could be worse."

Neil pulled the door open completely. "It's clear."

Reynolds pushed herself in front of them to check for herself. When she was satisfied, she eased the door closed and turned to them.

"Were they coming for us or is it a migration?" She asked them.

"Migration, I think," Neil said, "They would have been coming in faster if they knew we were here."

Reynolds cast her eyes downward as she thought. The others waited for her to speak.

"We stay here," she decided, "No loud noises. Stay out of the windows. We'll fortify ourselves here and funnel them through if they spot us."

It would be easier to take them on one at a time, Andrew knew. Neil was fidgeting on his feet like he wanted to bolt. He must have resisted the instinct because he stayed with them.

"Let's rearrange some of these shelves," Reynolds suggested, "Carefully."

They got to work with the caution of a surgeon, delicately scooting the shelves to defend them on either side. The shelves were double-sided with no backs so they could see through them. It could easily turn into a trap if they weren't careful.

When their improvised defenses were in place, Reynolds settled by the front of their sloppy fort to shoot. Gordon scouted ahead with his rifle in the shadows by the front windows with Neil. Neil would run back and warn them in case the Infected attacked while Gordon laid down cover fire.

Nobody dared speak. Even their breathing was muted on instinct. The humidity of the rain outside choked the air in the store.

Mobs were dangerous groups of Infected. Nobody had yet to discover why Infected moved in herds sometimes, but they usually did while they were still in early stages of decomposition. This meant they not only had numbers on their side, but at least moderate strength and endless stamina.

The first few weeks after the Outbreak, before the Foxes had settled into their current base, mobs of Infected were as common as cockroaches. The South had a way of breeding things in large sizes. It wasn't as common now, and Andrew could tell that the others in the group were nervous about confronting one.

Andrew found it odd that they were so afraid. The Foxes had fought through countless Infected before to stay alive. These Infected were another opponent they would overcome. No matter their numbers or the freshness of their corpses.

There was a yell from the front of the store and Reynolds and Kevin jolted. Gordon let loose with the rifle, and the booming of his gunfire echoed unpleasantly through the tiny store.

Neil was with them in moments, eyes bright with adrenaline.

"Fleshies, handful of Roiders. I counted 28 but Seth took down three already," Neil informed them.

There was a skidding sound as Gordon's feet scrabbled over the linoleum of the floor. His gun was still up and a mixture of sweat and rain greased the skin of his face.

"Coming in hot!" Gordon called.

Reynolds was shooting before Andrew even saw the first Infected.

The bodies that rushed in to attack them fell mid-stride as she punched a bullet through their heads. Brownish blood splattered over shelves, and product, and across the floor.

Gordon was overwhelmed, Andrew could tell. He was just a foot away, but he couldn't move without opening his guard to more of the Infected. He took a step back and his foot slid on a scrap of trash on the floor. There was a crunch as Gordon landed poorly on his hand and something broke. Kevin drew in a sharp breath.

Reynolds noticed and shrieked like some bird of prey, shooting frantically at the Infected bearing down on Gordon. Andrew watched indifferently as the Infected closed in on Gordon's prone form. He was struggling with the butt of his rifle to knock them back.

Andrew didn't see Neil move. He was in the fray suddenly, his crowbar whacking into the side of one of the Infected's heads.

Somehow, Neil had Reynolds' handgun and was shooting it in his left hand with supernatural precision. He barely looked at each target before he fired, hitting the mark each time. With the crowbar in his right hand, he was fending nearby Infected off with whip-like blows. He wouldn't be able to keep it up.

"Seth!" Reynolds cried out "Get the fuck over here!"

Gordon struggled to his feet with Neil covering him. Blood ran down to his elbow and he was cradling his injured hand to his chest. Pain twisted his face in an ugly grimace.

Neil was struggling obviously now. The handgun's clip had been emptied out and he was now fighting alone hand-to-hand with the Infected. Andrew's body moved thoughtlessly in a snap-reflex.

As Neil maneuvered painstakingly back toward their shelter, Andrew gripped the racquet and swung viciously. He was sure he'd broken his first target's neck as it crumpled to the floor.

Next hit. _Crack_. Next. _Crack_. The stick vibrated painfully in his hands with each blow but Andrew held on. He grit his teeth and kept hitting. Neil found an opening and slipped through, nearly knocking Andrew over as he did. Andrew spared Neil an unimpressed glance at his clumsiness.

"Ammo," Neil requested with what little breath he had. He tucked the crowbar into his armpit and shook his right hand out.

Reynolds threw him a full clip and he changed them out expertly. She took Gordon's rifle from him and he hissed in a breath as his hand was jostled.

Kevin was staring at Gordon's shattered hand and hyperventilating. Great. Andrew forced Kevin's eyes away by tugging his chin towards him.

"Stop," Andrew ordered. Kevin's eyes were lost in the past as he stared down at him.

The gunfire eased as more and more Infected dropped. Soon the last body fell with a wet slap to the linoleum and the only sound that remained in the store was a distant pattering of rain and an echoing ringing in their ears.

Gordon's harsh breathing was shaking his body in gasps. Reynolds knelt down next to him and murmured some comforting sentiment that he nodded along to in a daze. 

Neil had his gun up still, trained at the bodies on the floor in case any spontaneously sprung up to attack them. His chest was heaving from exertion and sweat had his clothes clinging to him tightly. Andrew indulged in the briefest of glimpses before flicking his eyes away.

Kevin was still panicking at the sight of Gordon's broken hand. His breathing had calmed mostly but he'd frozen up completely, eyes wide.

"We should go while we're clear," Neil suggested. He turned to them, dismissed Gordon's hand and locked onto Kevin with knowing solemnity.

"Let's go," Reynolds agreed firmly. She swung the rifle around her back tiredly.

"Keep that piece. I'll use this one," Reynolds told Neil. He accepted that without comment.

"How'd they find us?" Reynolds asked as she helped Gordon up.

"The smell," Gordon grunted, "Fucking Roiders."

"It just takes one noticing," Neil added.

Reynolds closed her eyes and breathed out. When she opened them she had affected the role of leader again. She led them out the backdoor carefully, keeping watch on the surrounding buildings for straggling Infected.

The storm finally broke on their way back. Gordon was lagging severely and Reynolds had to keep pushing him forward. They redistributed some of the heavier items in his pack so he could walk easier.

Kevin was also flagging, but mostly because he was distracted. He kept rubbing the scars on his left hand uneasily. Occasionally, a sick look would cross his face. Andrew needed to snap him out of it.

"Kevin," Neil said suddenly. He was flanking them this time instead of Gordon.

"Let me have a look," Neil ordered. At Kevin's blank stare, he sighed and trotted up alongside him.

Neil pulled Kevin's left hand away from the kneading of his right and inspected it. Andrew knew it was futile to analyze the long-broken hand but he let Neil continue. Neil prodded at the joints and ran an attentive finger over the scars. 

"You're lucky," Neil said finally. Kevin's face finally broke the ice over it in an expression of disbelief.

"The bones healed in almost perfect alignment. With the right rehabilitation, you'll have full use of your hand--maybe even better than before you broke it, depending. Whoever treated it did a good job."

Neil let the hand go with a meaningful look as he caught Kevin's eye. Then, he dropped back behind them and said nothing else for the entire trip home. Kevin's panic had soothed. He was still tense from the mob encounter, but he left his hand alone while they walked.

Neil's existence was a pest niggling at the fog around Andrew's mind. Andrew thought he'd pinned Neil down to a predictable understanding. But the man kept shaking Andrew's conclusion every time the water settled from his last stunt. Maybe Andrew should make another deal.  
  
If Neil could maintain Kevin's peace of mind as he just had, he could be valuable. Andrew didn't have the capacity for sympathy that was required to mop up Kevin's tears and hold his hand to keep him from falling apart. He had promised to protect Kevin, but he admitted his skills extended only to pressing sharp things to vulnerable necks.  
  
Neil had a strange gravity that drew people towards him. The Foxes were a perfect example of it. His shared past with Kevin was a factor that might complicate things, but for now Andrew could at least consider Neil's usefulness. 

It was nearly dark by the time they returned to camp. The pastiche metal wall that encompassed the house they occupied loomed in shadow as they approached. Reynolds breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.

Andrew picked the lock to let them in and dropped it to the wet ground as he passed through. One of the others could lock up. Neil took the job and tightened the chains efficiently as he clicked the lock closed.

They trudged wearily to the front door of the house. The adrenaline from the fight had probably worn off in the others. Andrew caught Neil staring at Gordon warily, his gun still poised in his hands despite them being secure in their camp. Andrew tried to see what Neil was seeing that made him so on-edge.

Gordon was sluggish, but only slightly more so than the rest of them. His eyes were glassy from the pain and he stumbled like he was barely seeing the sidewalk in front of them. Other than his hand, there were no obvious wounds that would indicate he'd been compromised by the Infected. 

Andrew stepped closer to Neil and leaned in so he could mutter, "What."

Neil jumped and shot him a guilty look. He hadn't wanted to be caught out on his suspicion. Neil shook his head and pressed his lips closed tightly.

Andrew felt the urge to bring out his knives for further interrogation, but he settled on repeating the inquiry, "Neil. What is wrong."

Reynolds tugged the door open and ushered Gordon inside with a hand on his back. Nobody was there to greet them, probably busy finishing dinner.

"Abby!" Reynolds bellowed.

"It's nothing probably," Neil murmured to Andrew.

"Funny, I don't believe you."

Abby emerged from the dining room and zeroed in on their injured party immediately. She took Gordon from Reynolds and eased him towards their makeshift treatment room hastily.

Wymack appeared in the doorway and gave them a trained once-over. He knew something had gone wrong and his mouth set in a grim line.

"Report," Wymack ordered. Reynolds shot the closed door to the medical room an anxious glance but nodded and followed Wymack into the other room.

"Neil," Andrew pressed. Neil was still watching where Gordon had disappeared and worried his bottom lip.

"It's Seth," Neil admitted, "I think he might have been infected."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked this chapter! I'll probably try and get the next update out by next week.
> 
> There was a little more zombie action this chapter, and I'll admit there will only be more from here.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read! Please comment to let me know what you think :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience waiting for this update, guys! I've been sitting on part of this for a while, but I haven't had a lot of free time to write. Hope you like it! :D 
> 
> Warning: detailed descriptions of blood and death.

Neil sat through dinner like he was watching it all through a television screen. When he looked at Allison, he saw that she was similarly cut off. Her hair was still frizzy from its exposure to the rain, and her eyes were fastened down to her untouched plate like she didn't know what to do with it.

The other Foxes tried to lift the solemn mood valiantly. Neil could almost hear the laugh track responding to their forced camaraderie. Nicky even joined into the conversation, though his cousins didn't say a single word through the entire meal.

Neil was occupied thinking about his mother. He'd recognized the early symptoms of the virus in Seth only because he'd missed them in Mary. He'd reviewed those last two days with her over and over since her death and their memory was a painful stamp in his mind.

Neil glanced at Andrew where he sat picking at his meal with the same bored expression he always wore. He hadn't been shaken by Neil's confession that he thought Seth was Infected. Neil couldn't even be sure that his diagnosis was correct. But his instincts usually led him right. He'd survived countless times by listening to them.

Andrew's eyes slid lazily up to meet Neil's. He raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn't call Neil out on staring. 

Neil thought he'd understood Andrew--he was infamous for his criminal record and reckless violence. Violence and criminals had been the baseline of normal in Neil's childhood. Neil had known many psychopaths who could fit perfectly into the mold Andrew had been carved from by the press (if you took a foot or so off their height). But Neil was realizing he hadn't actually met anyone like Andrew before. The media had pressed Andrew flat as if he were something simple and easy to know. They'd probably end up cutting themselves on the edge of that false representation, if the Foxes ever made it back to structured society.

Neil chewed his food out of diligence more than anything. His appetite was nonexistent, but Neil had learned early on in life that you ate what you could while you had the chance. His mind was twisting in circles as he swallowed flavorless mush.

If Seth really was infected it would take several hours at least for the virus to kill him and then take over his body. At that point, Seth would be nothing but an aggressive, lethal creature trying to kill everyone under this roof. Neil only knew what he'd heard on the radios in Zone 1, and what he'd seen firsthand with his mother, but it was enough.

Mary died on the west coast, just along the border between Zones 1 and 2.  

Neil remembered the fever, Mary calling his many names and speaking a dozen different languages incoherently. His mother's body was so hot as he held her desperately that Neil felt his skin would blister off along with hers.

Then there was the blood. It was like every organ inside her had liquified and now ran from her nose and ears and eyes--faucets that had been turned on full blast. It was so soaked into the upholstery of the car they were fleeing in that the stain it left behind could never be washed out.

Neil knew the infection was only contagious after the host was dead. That's when the virus reached stage 2 and seemingly reanimated the dead flesh it had curated for itself. In those last hours, though, Neil wouldn't have cared if it were contagious long before then. He was wiping blood from her cheek, and squeezing her hand, and pleading in his mind for her to make it just a little longer as long as she could.

Mary had enough awareness to press her switchblade into Neil's hand and guide it to the base of her skull.

 _Sever it, Abram_ , she'd said. He knew she was gone then. She would never have dared use that name in any other case.

She was coughing like her lungs were made of ground meat and gasoline.

When her body was too tired to keep up with the coughing, she desperately whispered the last few orders she'd ever give him and died.

Neil didn't hesitate. He knew better. He pushed the knife through his mother's flesh and killed her a second time.

Neil couldn't bury her at first. After driving to a remote stretch of the beach, he tried removing Mary's body from the car. The sound of her dried blood cracking as he ripped her body from the seat was like the rough peel of Velcro. Neil gagged for the first time since his mother had gotten sick. For some reason that sound was worse than anything else--or maybe the reality of it all had finally started to set in. Neil left his mother in the car and burned the whole thing instead.

He sat the entire time the flames were burning. He didn't even realize that time was passing at all. The rush of the fire and the whooshing of the ocean sounded like static in Neil's mind. He thought maybe what had happened wasn't even real.

It was.

Neil pulled Mary's charred bones from the frame of the car and walked miles down the beach with them in his arms. Soot that used to be his mother rubbed off on his hands when he set them down into her pack. He buried her as deep as he could, where the sand was cold and bloody from his chafed hands.

If Seth was infected, Neil wasn't sure the Foxes would do what needed to be done. 

Dinner ended and Allison left to visit Seth in the medical room as soon as Wymack finished giving them their daily report. Dan watched her exit with concern and shared a meaningful look with Renee.

Neil debated over admitting his fears to the Foxes now that Allison was gone. He thought she would take it the worst, but he still might offend the others if he told them he thought Seth was infected. They still needed to know. It would be a thousand times worse if they were unprepared.

"Neil," Andrew addressed him suddenly.

The others around the table turned to Andrew in shock. He rarely ever spoke at shared meals, especially to anyone outside his small group. They redirected their surprise to Neil once it sank in that Andrew had actually spoken to him.

Andrew gave Neil a deliberate look and stood. When Neil remained seated in confusion, Andrew's eyelids flickered the slightest bit in irritation. He ticked his head toward the door. Neil caught on and jumped up. He followed Andrew into the hall.

Neil heard Matt say, "What the fuck was tha--" as the door closed behind him.

Neil thought Andrew would say what he wanted in the relative privacy of the hallway, but instead he kept walking and disappeared upstairs. Puzzled, Neil followed.

Neil didn't spend much time upstairs and it was especially strange to see the second floor in complete darkness as they passed it. Andrew took him all the way to the third floor and stopped by his bedroom door. There was a very brief moment Neil could read tension in the line of Andrew's shoulder before the other man pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Andrew's room was sparsely decorated and lit only by the moonlight spilling meagerly through the closed blinds of the window. The click of the door closing behind Andrew reminded Neil that it might not have been wise to follow him up here alone.

"What is it?" Neil asked, hoping this conversation didn't involve Andrew's knives.  
  
Andrew stayed in front of the door, although his hand slipped from the handle to rest casually at his side. Neil considered how many bones he would likely break if he needed to jump out the window. He wasn't confident in his chances.  
  
"Are you certain Gordon is infected," Andrew replied. His voice carried no inflection when he asked questions, so they always came out as demands.  
  
"I can't be certain yet," Neil answered truthfully.  
  
"How would you know."  
  
Neil hesitated. He didn't want to tell Andrew the truth. Not even part of it like he'd done before. Andrew breathed a sigh so slight Neil almost didn't catch it.   
  
"I'll trade you," Andrew offered, "A truth for a truth."  
  
Neil had a refusal already at the tip of his tongue but he paused. Andrew wasn't the type of person to give away any part of himself, not even information. Neil was curious despite himself.  
  
"What will you tell me?" Neil asked.   
  
"What do you want to know?" Andrew volleyed.  
  
Neil honestly had no idea where to start. If Andrew had any seams he could pull on, Neil didn't know of them yet. He asked something simple instead, and decided to measure what he gave in return equally.  
  
"Why do you use an Exy racquet to fight the Infected? You guys have an entire armory of more effective weapons." The idea that Exy held enough significance to Andrew for him to carry it with him as a defense didn't match up with Neil's memory of Andrew sitting out that day on the court.   
  
"The look on Kevin's face. It's a reminder of the deal he made with me," Andrew answered immediately.  
  
Neil couldn't say he was surprised by the pettiness of that response. He wanted to ask more, but he wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell Andrew right now. One truth was hard enough to stomach.  
  
"Your turn," Andrew said.  
  
"I've seen it before," Neil admitted. He could hear his mother's body ripping from the passenger seat. He didn't say anything else.  
  
Andrew waited for elaboration. He didn't argue when none came, just twisted the bedroom's doorknob again and cracked the door open.  
  
"If Gordon is infected, he needs to be disposed of. When you are certain of it, tell me," Andrew ordered in a low voice.  
  
Neil wasn't sure what to make of the command. He was still trying to find his balance after their short conversation. Neil didn't believe for a second that Andrew trusted him. He was taking stock of every card he had in hand so he could prepare for his next play. Neil didn't know how to feel about being one of them.  
  
"Goodnight, Neil." Andrew pulled the door open wide enough for Neil to pass. He closed it as soon as Neil was out in the hall. Neil heard the lock click.  
  
Nicky was waiting in the hallway and jumped to attention when Neil appeared. He inspected Neil like he was searching for injuries, and grinned in relief when he spotted none. Neil didn't want to be caught up in one of Nicky's long-winded and confusing conversations so he approached the stairs hastily and nodded silently as he passed.  
  
"Goodnight, Neil," Nicky laughed. Neil noted how differently the phrase sounded coming from Nicky than it did from his cousin.  
  
At the bottom of the staircase Neil realized he didn't know where he was sleeping tonight. Seth was probably occupying the bed in the medical room under Abby's care.

Neil knew if Seth had contracted the virus he wouldn't be dangerous for a while still, but Neil thought it might be wise to keep an eye on the man anyway. Maybe he could settle down in a corner of the room and keep watch.

Neil could hear voices speaking through the door in the dining room. The tones he made out belonged to Dan and Wymack. Neil was too weary to discuss the day with others, so he left them be.

Neil's duffel was still thrown haphazardly in the hallway where he'd stashed it after the raid. Before losing everything in Zone 2, Neil would never have willingly left his belongings so exposed. He still felt uneasy leaving the duffel for anyone to search through, but it no longer held anything that traced back to who he was before he became Neil Josten. It was just an assembly of ratty cloth and zippers smudged in dirt.

The duffel was still full of food and slightly damp toilet paper, and Neil realized he wasn't sure what to do with all of it. He supposed he could ask Wymack in the morning. Neil hefted the thing onto one shoulder, and his crowbar thumped to the floor where it had been leaning against it. He picked that up, too, and headed to the medical room.

Soft light buttered the carpet beneath the door. The med room was one of few connected to their generators. It was awkward knocking to be admitted to the room he'd grown accustomed to inhabiting. Neil didn't like that it felt like he'd put down roots with the Foxes, no matter how thin.  
  
"Come in," Abby called softly.   
  
Neil pushed the door open slowly. The light inside was as dim as ever as it trickled out of a bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling. It ran through a wire that might once have connected to a ceiling fan. Shadows clung heavily to every corner of the room and every leg of the furniture. Neil stepped inside and closed the door carefully behind him.  
  
Allison was sitting by the bed with her legs spread out in front of her. One of her hands was stroking along Seth's temple absentmindedly. He was lying in the bed with the covers tucked around him and a sheen of sickly sweat wetting the pillow under his head. His injured arm was tucked away, but Neil was sure it still looked ugly.  
  
"How is he?" Neil asked. He was trying to get a better look so he could assess for himself, but Allison was blocking him from sight.   
  
Neil hadn't seen Allison this run into the ground since he'd decided to stay with the Foxes. Through the heat, and constant work, and even after a match of Exy, Allison always looked ready for a photo shoot. Now she looked like she could barely even keep her head up.   
  
"The break's been splinted," Abby answered. She was cleaning her supplies and putting them away carefully.  
  
"But?" Neil could sense it coming.  
  
"But he has a fever. Could be from the pain." Abby hesitated, eyes falling to Allison. "Or from infection." Allison didn't move. She was still stroking Seth's face in a trance.  
  
"We just need to keep an eye on him," Abby pushed forward in an attempt to be optimistic. She closed her kit with a click.  
  
"Oh, Neil, sorry--your bed's been taken. There's some furniture out in the parlor. A little dusty, sorry, but it's comfortable enough," Abby said.  
  
"Actually, if you need someone to keep an eye on him, I can. You two can get some sleep," Neil offered.   
  
"I'm not leaving," Allison said. She didn't look up to Neil. Abby bit her lip and glanced between her and Neil.  
  
"You need to rest," Abby told Allison with gentle force.  
  
Allison finally dragged her stare from Seth with a stubborn set to her brow. Her eyes were ringed red like she had barely blinked since their return. Her glare cut from Abby to Neil and her lip curled sharply in a sneer. A look like that could gut a man.   
  
"We can't do anything else for him tonight, Allison. Get some sleep so when he wakes up tomorrow you'll be able to help me check him out," Abby pleaded. She waited for Allison to agree with an imploring look.   
  
Weariness tipped the scale in Abby's favor. Allison's entire body sagged in defeat. She pulled her hand away from Seth and got to her feet unsteadily.   
  
Neil watched the two of them leave the room, keeping Seth's still body in the corner of his eye. The door closed behind Abby and Neil was shut in with an infected man. He bit down on the bile that rose up his throat at the thought. His instincts twitched, like he'd missed a step, and made his skin uncomfortably sensitive. To fight his anxious nausea, Neil tucked himself into a corner and pulled his knees up to his chest.  
  
Mary would have beaten his stupidity black and blue from his skin for putting himself at risk like this. Either of Neil's parents would have eliminated a threat like Seth without thought, even if there was a chance of him being clear of the infection. But Neil didn't want to be like either of his parents. Even Mary. She'd done what she needed for the two of them to survive, but she'd still been cruel beyond humanity. Neil was surrounded by people that trusted him--that showed him how to play Exy and treated him with kindness. Even if Neil couldn't return that trust, even if he couldn't let them get close, he didn't want to betray them.  
  
Minutes, maybe hours, later, Seth moaned painfully in his sleep and tossed his head. Neil jerked upright, hands clenching around his crowbar and heart skittering. Seth let out an unintelligible stream of words before choking on them. His body shuddered so hard it rattled the bed frame.  
  
"Seth," Neil said cautiously. The other man heard his voice in his delirium and turned to him. His eyes peeled open with effort, but they didn't see Neil.  
  
"Wha?" Seth slurred. Sweat was drowning his face. Neil wondered if dehydration would kill him before organ failure. Abby had probably done something for it, but Seth still looked like he was already halfway into the grave.  
  
Seth's face spasmed suddenly in pain and he let out a loud groan. It sounded like he was trying to sob but didn't remember how. Neil grimaced. Seth was kind of an asshole, but it was still unpleasant watching him die. Neil thought of the scalpel in Abby's supplies. He thought of every merciful cut he could make to end Seth's pain before it got worse. Revulsion was a bloated thing in Neil's head. It could just be a fever. Antibiotics might help. It would break and Seth could sleep it off.  
  
The door opened without warning. Neil flinched and smacked the back of his head off the wall behind him with a loud thump. Andrew gave him a look that almost seemed pitying, eyebrows raised lazily. Neil returned it with an irritated glare.  
  
"You're taking too long," Andrew said. He inspected Seth whining in the bed with apathy.   
  
"It takes time for the characteristic symptoms to show," Neil told him, like he knew how those symptoms manifested, and precisely when. Andrew wasn't impressed. He gave Seth a once-over that said he had already decided whether Seth was infected or not.  
  
And that's when Seth started bleeding everywhere. It leaked from the corner of his eyes like tears as his eyelids wrung themselves out in agony. It dripped from his nose in a thick stream, diluting in his sweat. He coughed harshly and a spray of red painted the sheets, the wood of the bed, and even the carpet.  
  
Andrew gave Neil a look. "He's infected," He said.  
  
Neil flattened his mouth in a grim line. "He is."   
  
Andrew had a knife out already. "No!" Neil protested. He jumped up and _wham._  He was instantly thrown back with Andrew's hand pinning him to the wall by the neck. Neil gasped and clawed at the hand choking him. His crowbar clunked uselessly to his feet. Andrew watched him struggle impassively, not the slightest inflection of effort in his face.  
  
Neil's vision had just started to fade when Andrew let him go. He dropped to his knees, wheezing.  
  
"We--we should let the others decide," Neil got out, "They deserve to know."  
  
"This is an Infected. It will tear your throat out with its teeth and chew on it," Andrew said dismissively, "I'm killing it now before it has the chance."  
  
Seth coughed wetly again. Neil grabbed at the wall and dragged himself up to his feet.  
  
"I told you I've seen this before. He won't turn until he's dead and he won't die for a few more hours. He's harmless until then, and the others need to get a say in what happens," Neil insisted.  
  
"They don't know what they need," Andrew replied, "They'll cry over him until he's got bits of them stuck between his teeth."  
  
"Maybe," Neil agreed. He looked at Seth pathetically hacking onto the sheets, curled over his stomach and weeping blood. Whatever it meant, Seth was a Fox. Dying like this without the Foxes by his side wasn't fair. Neil thought of his earlier conversation with Andrew.  
  
"Either way, I can tell you the exact moment he turns. You can kill him when it happens. Before he's a real threat. If that's not enough, I'm fast--I'll get to him before he can attack anyone. I've done it before," Neil added on when he saw the argument in Andrew's face. "And I'll trade you for it. Give me an hour, so the Foxes can decide. We warn them about Seth before we kill him, and I'll give you another truth. Anything. Something about the Moriyamas, or Zone 1, or even my past. Please."  
  
"I hate that word," Andrew responded. Neil wanted to ask why but he bit his tongue to let Andrew think the offer over.  
  
"Fine. Thirty minutes," Andrew answered at length. He stabbed the air in front of Neil with his knife and added, "If you aren't as fast as you think you are, I will gut you and leave your dying body out for the Infected to tear to pieces."  
  
Neil suppressed his instinct to flinch away from the blade aimed toward him and gave Andrew a cool look. "It's a deal, then," he said.  
  
Andrew slid the knife into his armband. "Gather the idiots. You have an hour." 

Minutes later, everyone looked ready to fall asleep as they crowded in the hallway outside the med room. Only Wymack and Andrew seemed awake at all, and both of them stood with their arms crossed and faces shuttered. The only light that illuminated the Foxes was the thin glow of the light bulb in the med room, and it revealed a sparse half of their faces. 

They stood in stunned silence, letting Neil's announcement set in. Abby was the first to react. She slipped around Andrew guarding the door and into the med room to see Seth for herself. Neil knew the scene was gory--there was a messy halo of blood clotting on the pillowcase, and dark red spatter covered everything else within reach. 

A minute later Abby walked out, peeling rubber gloves from her hands with a somber expression. "I can't say for sure without the appropriate tools but...his symptoms match those described in early stages of the Infection."

Abby pursed her lips. She looked to Neil and shook her head. "It's not enough for a proper diagnosis. There's not enough access to information on the infection in Zone 2."

"We know enough," Aaron snapped. Neil was surprised at the furious bite in his voice. "He's infected. We have to do something before he turns and we have a Roider trapped in here with us."  
  
"This is Seth." Matt's words were thick, like his throat was tight. "It's still him, the stupid fucking asshole. We can't kill him."  
  
"He's already dead. The virus leaves no survivors. There's now way to fight it," Aaron argued.  
  
"Allison," Renee cut in calmly. Allison didn't hear. She was staring into the blackness of the hallway blankly. Renee stepped in front of her, and repeated herself. "Allison?"  
  
Allison blinked. "I can't," she said. Her voice was hollowed out like her eyes.  
  
"Okay. Okay, you don't have to," Dan soothed her. She pressed a hand over Allison's shoulder, and Allison leaned into it unthinkingly. Renee did the same on the other side of her, the two of them holding Allison up between them.   
  
"You're not touching him," Dan said to Aaron. Her voice was made of barbed wire and steel.  
  
"He's infected!" Aaron spat at her, "He's dead! He's dead and he's going to kill the rest of us when he turns!"  
  
Allison jerked in Dan and Renee's hands, but they held her back in time to stop her from lunging at Aaron. She glared at Aaron under the sharp cut of her eyebrows like the moment she was free she'd rip his throat out with her fingernails. Andrew shifted, and Neil glanced over to see him positioning himself between Allison and Aaron. His arms were still crossed, but there was a looseness to the stance now that Neil didn't trust at all.  
  
"I'm not waiting around for him to turn on us," Aaron said.  
  
"He might not be infected!" Dan argued, "I'm not going to murder Seth because you're scared. He's a Fox."  
  
"I am scared. And you're stupid. You've seen what they can do--what they did to--you know what the infected are capable of. We've been out here since the Outbreak, and we're going to die out here, too--eaten alive, or starving, and nobody in fucking Zone 1 is going to give a damn," Aaron cut himself off, breathing hard. Neil had never heard him talk this much.  
  
"I'm not letting fucking Seth be the one to kill me. Not after fucking everything," Aaron said like a mouthful of broken glass and blood. His fists were clenched tight at his sides, and Neil had the uncomfortable suspicion that he could see tears shining in his eyes. "Do whatever the fuck you want with him, but I'm not letting him kill me."  
  
And he turned on his heel and stormed back upstairs. Neil felt like a windstorm had just passed through, leaving the Foxes breathless and imbalanced.   
  
"Enough discussion." Andrew's voice cut through their shock and he moved for the door. "Time's up," He said to Neil.   
  
Renee stepped neatly in front of him. "Andrew," she said in a low, dangerous voice. Neil couldn't see her expression well in the weak light of the hallway, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.  
  
Andrew didn't step back, but he did tilt his head up to look Renee in the eyes. "Renee."  
  
"You gave them to me to protect," Renee told him.   
  
"This isn't just about them," Andrew replied.   
  
"It's about Seth."  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
Renee tilted her chin up and Neil saw the light from the med room flash in her eyes. He realized he'd been holding his breath and exhaled.   
  
"I'm sorry, Andrew," Renee said. Neil couldn't hear anything in her tone that was sorry. It sounded, instead, like resolve. "I'm not letting you touch him."  
  
They stood still, assessing each other like stray cats waiting for someone to make a move. Andrew was the one who made it. He stepped back, away from Renee and the door, from all of them. His entire face was a shadow that Neil failed to interpret.  
  
"If you don't kill him when he turns, I will be the one to put him down. An Infected won't be moved by your tears," Andrew warned them. He pressed a hand to Kevin's shoulder and pushed him after Aaron. "Upstairs," he ordered. Kevin didn't move, so Andrew pushed at his shoulder again. "Go." Kevin stumbled away.  
  
Andrew turned to Nicky. "You too," he said to him. When Nicky disappeared, Andrew stepped away until his back was against the wall in the hallway facing the med room. He flicked two throwing knives between the fingers of each hand lazily and refused to look at anyone else.   
  
"We should--we should go in," Matt said after another long, tense silence, "See him, you know..." He stopped and crossed his arms tightly in front of himself.   
  
"I'm not sure about that," Abby said. Maybe she was thinking of Seth curled up in his own blood. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but Neil knew Abby had already realized Seth was infected.  
  
"No, they should," Wymack said. Neil had almost forgotten he was there. He had silently let the Foxes argue things out with themselves. Wymack and Abby shared a long look that probably contained a full conversation, and ended in him wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into him.  
  
"He's really sick," Abby said to brace them, "Just be careful, and..." She bit her lip. "Just be careful."  
  
Allison's anger with Aaron had lit a fire in her expression that made the weariness Neil had seen in her all evening burn up to faint ashy smudges under her eyes. She stepped past Dan and Renee who had returned to her side and went into the room. The Foxes trailed hesitantly in after her. Andrew stayed where he was leaning against the wall with his knives. If he felt Neil looking at him, he ignored the attention. Neil wasn't sure if he should intrude on the Foxes saying what was probably goodbye to their friend, but he'd told Andrew he would watch for the moment Seth turned, so he went into the room, too.

 Seth was barely breathing. The smell of sickness was thick in the room. Blood darkened around Seth like the shadows were drawn down toward him. It was crowded now, with seven people standing in a strange semicircle around Seth. Abby was pulling on another pair of gloves so she could check Seth's vitals again. He looked sicker than ever, and didn't even move when Abby pressed two fingers to his pulse.  
  
Allison knelt down in Seth's blood and leaned a head onto his side. Her shoulders were trembling.  
  
"It's true." Allison's voice was quiet, her face turned away. Abby drew in a shaky breath.

"Fuck," Matt choked out.   
  
Seth's body jerked and he was hacking something the texture and consistency of his guts onto the floor. Allison reached over and rubbed a thumb in soothing circles over the nape of his neck. Seth cracked his eyelids open and saw her. The whites of his eyes were now an oily pink.  
  
"Ali," he breathed.  
  
"I'm here, babe," She whispered back. Her fingers were red where she cradled his face. Seth tried to reach up and grab it but the splint on his arm hindered him. Allison gently settled his arm back against his side, murmuring something Neil couldn't hear. A second later, Seth was unconscious again. Allison pressed her forehead to his shoulder.  
  
"Abby, how long?" Allison asked.   
  
"Allison, I don't--"   
  
"How long?"  
  
"Soon," Abby answered. Neil agreed. He was having trouble breathing through the stuffiness of the room. He could hear the ocean in the static in his ears. 

_Don't look back, don't slow down, and don't trust anyone. Be anyone but yourself, and never be anyone for too long._

Neil backed up into the hallway. He didn't realize Andrew had stepped forward into the doorway to watch the Foxes until Neil bumped into him. His back pressed up to Andrew's chest and he froze. Andrew didn't budge except to put two hands flat to Neil's shoulder blades. Neil felt Andrew's throwing knives cold in his palms. For some reason, that realization didn't spit fear into his gut.  
  
"Now?" Andrew asked. It was a hot breath against that back if Neil's neck. Neil had trouble finding words in the smoke in his mind. He inhaled to speak and smelled charred flesh. Instead of answering, Neil reached a hand back and pointed two fingers to the base of his skull. He dug the fingers in and his mother spoke through him.   
  
"Sever it," she said. Andrew took a step back and dropped his hands from Neil's shoulders.  
  
The Foxes were speaking but the room swam far away from Neil. He thought if he reached out, everything would turn to smoke against his fingertips. Andrew's shoulder brushed his as he slipped past him, a needle-thin cut of light in each hand where his knives sat ready to kill. Dan exclaimed angrily when she saw an armed Andrew join them. Renee made a wall of herself between Andrew and Allison who was still hunched over Seth, speaking to him. The Foxes were moving around the room, gesturing at each other and saying things Neil couldn't discern. Neil couldn't focus on them so he focused only on Seth's face.  
  
Neil knew exactly when Seth died. Death was a familiar expression. It looked different on everyone, and somehow the same. It emptied Seth out like he'd always been a husk of lifeless flesh and failing organs. Neil's heart thudded in his ears. His knee-jerk reaction was to bolt back into the hallway, out the front door, and into the night away from the Foxes forever. His body must have forgotten instinct because it tilted into the room instead, and Neil was pushing through the other bodies crowding it before he knew what he was doing.  
  
Andrew and Renee were distracted by each other, which was why they didn't react in time to stop Neil from ripping one of the knives from Andrew's hand. Neil flipped it in his own hand like Lola taught him so it settled in a sturdy grip. Knives were memories in Neil's fingers. They could never forget what they'd been taught.   
  
"Neil, no!" Someone shouted. Someone else grabbed his arm and he yanked himself out of their hold.   
  
Neil had the knife against the back of Seth's neck when a vice clamped down over his own. He froze. "Don't move," Renee warned. He felt sick when he recognized his father in her voice. She would snap his neck. She would break his bones. She would cut him slowly so he bled to death over hours and hours and hours. Allison squeezed Neil's wrist so hard his hand was turning red.   
  
"Let go of me, Andrew," Renee said.   
  
"He's dead," Andrew pointed out.   
  
Allison's hand was shaking. Neil went still. If he didn't sit still enough his father would hurt him. It could be the hot iron again, or the coffeepot, or the back of his hand. Blackness frosted up around the edges of his vision.  
  
"Neil, drop the knife," his father ordered sternly. Neil dropped it. It bumped against the corpse in front of him and flopped onto bloody sheets. Had he done that? Bile bit its way up his throat and he swallowed it.

"Everyone let everyone go," his father said next, but that didn't make much sense to Neil. His hand buzzed numbly as someone released his arm. The pressure on the back of his neck disappeared. The relief at being released didn't last as a weighted hand clapped down over Neil's shoulder. He flinched so hard, he crashed into the corpse in front of him and came away smeared down the front in blood. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Neil was pleading not to be hurt. He put his hands up in front of his face, remembered his father hated when he did that, and dropped them.  
  
"Stop it," Andrew said. Neil came back to the room. Everyone was staring down at him, haloed in light from above like candlesticks.   
  
"Neil? Can you get up?" Abby asked. She knelt down in front of him and reached out. Neil was grateful that her hands stopped before touching him. He avoided them as he staggered to his feet.   
  
"What the hell was that?" Dan demanded to know.   
  
"He's dead," Neil echoed Andrew. He tried rubbing the blood from his skin.   
  
"No," Allison denied it. She leaned forward and checked Seth's pulse. When she couldn't find one, she searched with her fingers as if she'd tried the wrong spot. "Seth, no," she begged, "fuck! Abby, please. He's not breathing. Seth, baby, come on."  
  
Abby gingerly guided Allison's hands aside and expertly found Seth's carotid artery. She waited for a heartbeat that never pulsed. She checked his breathing. She lifted his eyelids to test Seth's responsiveness. It was excessive, but Abby didn't want to accept the truth. When she was done, Abby sat back on her heels with a shuddering breath. It was enough answer for Allison. Sobs shook her body. She shoved her fist over her mouth to keep them in, but it didn't do anything.  
  
Death was heavy in the room. Neil wondered how much a stranger it was to the others.   
  
"He isn't turning," Andrew observed.   
  
"No," Abby agreed incredulously, "He isn't."  
  
"What does that mean? He wasn't infected?" Dan asked.  
  
Abby worked her hands, her brow wrinkled as she thought. "It can't have been anything else," she admitted.  
  
"It doesn't matter if he was infected or not, he's fucking dead!" Allison cried out. Renee reached out to soothe her, but Allison shoved her hands away. "Fuck!" she screamed, "It doesn't fucking matter!"  
  
"It does," Neil said before he could catch himself, "It means he was immune."  
  
"Immune? He wasn't immune, you stupid asshole," Allison yelled at him. She threw a hand out toward Seth's dead body. "It killed him!"  
  
Neil shook his head, he didn't understand either. The virus took control of a deceased host's body immediately after death. It was dangerous because it worked so quickly.   
  
"What does it mean?" Dan repeated.   
  
"I don't know," Abby answered. They all looked to Seth. He was a motionless stone sunken into the room. Neil didn't know what to make of the ripples his death sent out around him.

* * *

They buried Seth behind the house. The sky was a garish shade of blue that opened up for the sun's unpleasant breath clogging the air with sweat. Neil had offered to dig the grave with the others, and dirt clotted up around his arms to his elbows. His legs itched in the heat.   
  
Allison and Wymack were pouring shovelful after shovelful of dirt back over Seth's body. The Foxes had decided to sever Seth's brain stem before burying him in case the virus had been delayed and took over his body later. Allison had taken one of Renee's knives and done it herself. By then the tears had dried on her face, and her expression was nothing but determination. Neil wondered if that strength was just plating over a broken core. Watching her now, he still couldn't tell.  
  
"I'm sorry about last night," Renee said suddenly beside Neil. Neil repressed a flinch.  
  
"I didn't want to hurt you," Renee continued. Neil understood the difference between desire and intent. She would have hurt him if she needed to. "I have to protect them."  
  
"They need your protection?" Neil asked. The Foxes were bones broken over and over, little by little, until they came out stronger. Neil had thought them capable of handling themselves. What did Renee have that was more than that? Renee gave Neil a reserved smile that told him she knew what he was thinking but wasn't going to answer him yet.  
  
"Andrew and I spoke about you," Renee said. Neil's gut clenched. Andrew knew too many things about Neil, and Neil didn't trust Renee at all.   
  
"What did he say about me?" Neil cut in.   
  
"Don't worry. Andrew wouldn't betray anything you told him in secret. I asked him if he wanted me to take you under my protection as well," Renee explained.  
  
"I don't need your protection." Again, that smile. Neil had no idea what it meant.  
  
"He said he wasn't sure," Renee said.  
  
Neil watched the Foxes stare at the ground as if they could still see their teammate lying silently in his grave. Dan had an arm around Matt's waist and he turned his face into her hair. Neil saw a sob sweep through Matt's body. Why were the Foxes trying to take Neil in? To give him a place in their group, and offer protection? They barely knew him, and he'd tried stabbing their friend in the neck last night.   
  
"Neil, you've probably guessed I'm more than I seem," Renee interrupted his thoughts. Neil didn't reply.  
  
"I've done a lot of things I am not proud of to survive, but I wouldn't take them back. I'm born-again," Renee explained, patting the silver cross that always hung around her neck, "I have to work every day on my faith. After the things I've been through, the things I still see...I am a bad person trying very hard to be a good person, but I would not be trying at all if not for the outside interventions in my life. I grew up with my mother and her string of heavy-handed boyfriends."

Renee played with the cross on her necklace as she thought of her next words. She didn't seem bothered by what she was saying, or with the fact that she was revealing it all to Neil.   
  
"Maybe it was inevitable that I got into trouble myself. I worked my way up the ranks in one of Detroit's gangs. I did anything they asked me to and didn't care who I hurt." Renee made a thoughtful expression. "When the police caught up with me, I was fifteen. My lawyer traded my testimony for a reduced sentence. It got a lot of people in trouble, including my mother and her then-lover. They were beaten to death in prison by angry members of the gang I helped put away."  
  
"I'm sorry," Neil said, because he didn't know how else to respond. Renee lifted her hand from the cross and touched it to the knife strapped to her thigh.  
  
"I'm not," Renee replied, "I know I should be, but that's still something I'm working on. My mother's death led me to Stephanie Walker. After eight foster families, Stephanie found me and changed my life. She gave me a new name, a new faith, and a new chance at life. I didn't make it easy for her though." Renee's smile was sad as she remembered. "She's one of our contacts in Zone 1."  
  
Neil didn't know why Renee was admitting all of this to him. He still had questions, about her, about the Foxes' plan to get back to Zone 1, and about her relationship with Andrew.  
  
"How do you and Andrew work?" Neil picked the question that might be the easiest to untangle right now.   
  
"We come from similar backgrounds," Renee said, "and we recognized that in each other. We respect each other because we understand each other."  
  
"Then why aren't you two together?" Neil had heard the Foxes discussing a bet on Renee and Andrew getting together tons of times. Most of them thought the two were already together, or close to hooking up. Watching them, Neil could see where the theory came from. Renee was the only person Andrew didn't shut out entirely. Although it was still a strange relationship.  
  
"What?" Renee's eyebrows shot up like that was the last thing she'd expected him to ask. "Oh, Andrew isn't interested in me that way. And I'm not interested in him."  
  
"But why?" Neil didn't want to push too hard, but he was still confused.   
  
"It's not really my place to say. Maybe you can ask Andrew sometime?" Renee said simply. Neil grudgingly accepted that. He didn't say anything more.  
  
"Neil, I really do hope you'll be able to trust me soon. I think we would be able to understand each other, too," Renee implored, "Oh, Andrew, hello. We were just talking about you." The short man approached them, covered head to toe in black like always.  
  
Andrew hadn't watched the service the Foxes held for Seth at all. His absence might have been better, anyway, considering his indifference towards Seth's death, and the Foxes' sensitivity. Neil hadn't been very moved by the ceremony either, but he was tactful enough to keep that to himself. Renee excused herself after a brief exchange with Andrew and returned to Dan and Matt by the grave.   
  
"Oh," Andrew said when he saw the look on Neil's face, "That's interesting. That apathy doesn't bode well for your sanity."  
  
When Neil didn't rise to that bait, Andrew went silent as well. His hands were in his pockets, and Neil noticed the sharp corner of a cigarette pack in one of them.

"Can I?" Neil gestured to the pack. Andrew raised a brow at the question. He wriggled the pack from his pocket and flicked two cigarettes out.  
  
He lit them together and handed one over to Neil. Neil took a single drag to keep it lit and breathed the smoke out through his nostrils. Andrew let out his own breath of smoke and put the cigarette back to his lips. Neil held his cupped in front of him. He inhaled the smell desperately. It reminded him of his mother.

"You said you knew about the Moriyamas. And Zone 1," Andrew prompted. Neil remembered their deal from the night before. He fiddled with the cigarette, watching a clump of ash drift into the grass.

"What do you know about Riko Moriyama?" Andrew asked.

"Riko?" Neil was surprised that was the line of questioning Andrew wanted to follow. 

Despite the lie Neil had given Andrew about his parents working for the Moriyamas, Neil barely knew anything about the criminal organization. He knew they had come out through the messy end of the Outbreak fairly untouched. Their name was well-known in Zone 1 because they'd somehow gotten their fingers in every lasting business, influential family, and even government relief programs. Word went around Zone 1 about them in reverent tones, but nothing touched on their crimes. Neil didn't want to get involved with the Moriyamas because it was doubtless that they had a partnership with his father. 

Riko Moriyama was a different story. It was like he was completely detached from the rest of his family. Neil knew much more about him because he played Exy and Neil had held onto an unhealthy interest in everything about the sport. Riko was one of the best Exy players in the world. More than just an athlete, Riko was a celebrity, an icon. They called him King because he ruled the Exy court. Kevin had ruled alongside him before his injury.  
  
"Is he still alive?" Andrew asked, "In Zone 1?"  
  
That, Neil could answer. "He is. They had him on the radios for a while." Neil remembered Riko's polite voice giving PSA's and telling people to keep fighting. To make it to the nearest military base where they'd give you assistance. It was mostly smoke and mirrors. The military wasn't interested in giving straggling survivors assistance at that point. They were interested in easy targets coming to them.  
  
"Tell me more," Andrew said.  
  
"His family is involved in everything," Neil said. Andrew waved that off.  
  
"His 'family' isn't involved in him. What is he doing there? Where is he?" Andrew interrogated.   
  
"I was getting to that," Neil said in annoyance, "The Moriyamas funded an Exy tournament. They held it at Castle Evermore, and everyone important was there to watch. It was supposed to celebrate everyone in Zone 1 surviving the Outbreak." Castle Evermore was on the edge of Zone 1. Neil thought that the extremely rich had a stupid fascination with risking their lives.  
  
"He's probably still there," Neil finished.  
  
Andrew ran a thumb thoughtfully over his bottom lip. Neil noticed sweat beading up along his upper lip. It was darkening in his hair, too, and the sun blushed on the tips of his ears and over his cheeks. He didn't show any actual discomfort at the obvious heat.  
  
"Why do you want to know about Riko?" Neil inquired.   
  
Andrew considered Neil. Insects were buzzing again in the daylight, filling the air with a vibrating energy that made the South feel so alive, when it was mostly teeming with the dead. Neil waited patiently for Andrew's response.  
  
"He's a threat," Andrew explained.   
  
"Out here?"   
  
"Everywhere," Andrew replied. He changed the topic before Neil could pick that answer apart.  
  
"You said you would run before we made it to Zone 1," Andrew started.   
  
"Yeah?" Neil said, nonplussed.  
  
"Stay until we reach the border."  
  
"What? No, that's cutting it too close."  
  
"What's a few miles? You said you don't want to be alone."  
  
"Yeah, and I don't want to be dead."  
  
"I'll watch your back," Andrew said. Neil's irritated retort drew itself up short.  
  
"You'll what?" Neil asked.  
  
"Until we reach Zone. If you tell me everything you know about Zone 1, and Riko, and the Moriyamas. Tell me what to expect when we cross over. And help me keep Kevin from falling apart before we get there," Andrew offered. He was asking so little--too much--and Neil didn't know what to say. Nobody had ever offered to protect Neil. Renee had suggested it, and Neil's mother had felt obligated to do it, but Andrew was offering it to Neil, a nobody, like he meant to follow through.  
  
Neil remembered Andrew's hands supporting Neil's weight the night before. Holding Renee back as she'd held Neil down. Andrew was right. Neil didn't want to be alone.  
  
"I'm gone as soon as we reach the border," Neil said. Andrew nodded slowly like he knew Neil was always going to accept. He stubbed his cigarette out on the sole of his shoe and dropped the butt to the ground.   
  
"Meet me after dinner tonight," Andrew ordered, "You cant start telling me what you know."  
  
He walked back inside.  
  
Wymack had dismissed everyone from their duties today so they could grieve. Tomorrow, everything would be back to endless chores, and bickering, and fighting for their lives, but today the Foxes sat somberly around a fresh pile of dirt for hours. Neil was too antsy to join them. There were things that still needed to be done around camp, so he did them.  
  
Neil checked the traps and ran maintenance on the outer wall while he searched them. After he'd taken two laps around the outer wall, Neil scrubbed the shower down. He checked the pipes connected to it for any obvious leaks and washed the dishes from breakfast. Neil did inventory on camp supplies after lunch, helping Wymack calculate how long they'd last. Then, he cleaned the Foxes' guns efficiently, a routine he was used to doing with his mother. 

It was a relief to revert back to going through mindless actions to get through the day. Neil's time alone in Zone 2 had been full of days like this. His thoughts would whittle down to necessity to save him energy, and he'd go through the motions by habit. It meant he'd sometimes come out of it not knowing how many days it had been since his last conscious thought, but it also meant trudging through the grief of losing his mother instead of collapsing under it.   
  
Dinner was easier than breakfast. There was still tension visible between Andrew's group and everyone else. Aaron had sunken back into his surly, dead-eyed silence, but Neil was sure nobody had forgotten his comments from last night. Nobody tried to make conversation.  
  
Neil washed the dinner dishes in the humidity that still lingered in the night. He gave in to impulse and ran the hose over his head to cool down. The day's dried sweat rinsed off, and Neil shook his hair out afterward so droplets of water dripped off. He sat outside a while, appreciating the calm night and the cool dampness on his skin.

One thing about Zone 2 after the Outbreak: the stars shone clearer and brighter than Neil had ever seen before. He remembered most of the brightest constellations from his mother. They were useful tools of navigation through desperate nights.   
  
"Neil." Wymack's voice didn't jar Neil from his reverie like it normally would.

Wymack lowered himself down next to Neil and followed his gaze up to the stars. "You'd never see this before the Outbreak," Wymack observed. It was like looking at dust caught in a sunbeam. So many flecks of light salted the blackness of space.  
  
"No," Neil agreed.  
  
"It's the nature of the universe. When something's gone, another thing comes along to fill that space." Neil thought that was a weird way to allude to the end of humanity in more than half the country and most of the world.   
  
"We've all lost a lot of people in our lives. That's why I'm here. That's why the Foxes are here. It's always hard. I've never been a good shoulder to cry on," Wymack admitted, "But if you need to talk, I can lend a decent ear."  
  
"I'm fine," Neil said. Maybe he should have been shaken by Seth's death, but he wasn't. He'd barely known the man. Wymack gave him a long look. Whatever he saw in Neil's moonlit face, he didn't say. He tilted his face back up to the stars.   
  
"I guess so," Wymack told him.  
  
A while later, the two of them brought the drying dishes back inside. Andrew was the only person waiting for them in the dining room. Wymack looked between the two of them curiously.  
  
"What's this about?" Wymack asked, flicking a finger between them.  
  
"It's nothing," Andrew responded. Neil caught the jab and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.   
  
"Whatever," Wymack said, "Just don't kill him, Andrew."  
  
"No promises, Coach," Andrew retorted. Wymack snorted as he left.   
  
Andrew led Neil back to his room. It was strange that just yesterday, Neil had been up here. It felt like it had been days. This time, when Andrew locked the door behind him, Neil's heart didn't race with the urgent instinct to run. He didn't know where to sit so he opted to stand against a blank wall. Andrew leaned back on the headboard of his bed and lit a cigarette. The striped origami of moonlight folding out from the blinds splayed out over Andrew's chest. It made him look like a strange creature with an ember floating near his lips.  
  
"Start talking," Andrew said. Neil took a breath. He'd been gathering his memories of the Moriyamas all day so he could present them to Andrew, but it was still a meager plate of nothing he was offering.  
  
"It's not much," Neil admitted. Andrew puffed out a thick cloud of smoke and waved his hand in an impatient 'get on with it' gesture.  
  
Neil told him everything he knew. He tried not to let each word cut him raw on its way out.

* * *

"We're leaving in a week," Wymack declared to the Foxes over breakfast. It had been a month since Seth's death. Wymack had been right. Something had filled the void Seth had left behind. It sat with them at meals, followed at the Foxes' heels while they walked around camp, and held their fingers to the triggers of their guns while they were out on raids. It was resolve. Gritty determination.   
  
The Foxes had been surrounded by death since the Outbreak, but none of their own had actually died until Seth. They wanted now more than ever to reach Zone 1. Dan's hand froze where it had been aiming a forkful of canned chickpeas into her mouth.  
  
"You think we're ready?" Dan asked. She set the fork down. The chickpeas rolled off and around her plate.  
  
"We will be. We'll start preparing today," Wymack told them. They chewed on that carefully.  
  
"I have our route plotted out, but you guys can look it over and suggest changes as you see fit. We'll be hitting the Tower along the way to send a message to Betsy." Wymack pushed his empty plate aside and rolled a map out in its place. It was scaled out to display the entire East Coast of the United States.   
  
"If we keep a good pace, and don't run into trouble, we can get to the border in a week. That's if we head straight there. It'll probably take a little longer with breaks. When we get to the border, we'll have to wait for Betsy's signal for us to cross over. It could take days. We'll need to bring enough supplies to last at least twice as long as we expect to be out there. Dan, you and I can figure that out today. Allison, Renee, you'll be helping Abby with med supplies. The rest of you can look over the map and cross it with these different guides." Wymack tossed guidebooks for Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and West Virginia onto the table.  
  
"Figure out if there might be a better route. We should stay away from cities. You know that." Cities had hordes of Infected that probably still turned out straggling Roiders. 

Neil prodded his last few chickpeas onto the prongs of his fork and picked them off with his teeth. The Foxes wanted this badly, but it meant Neil's time with them now had an expiration date. He didn't meet Andrew's eyes across the table. He'd had his time with the Foxes. He'd even gone out with them to the court once more. With Seth's death it hadn't been the same for the Foxes, but it had been just as brilliant for Neil. 

Neil hadn't traveled much along the East Coast while on the run. It was too close to his father's territory. The roadmaps and guidebooks Wymack gave them were unfamiliar to Neil. After Nicky collected the dishes, Neil peeled the pamphlet with South Carolina printed over it in worn lettering open and started memorizing everything inside. Andrew flicked through North Carolina's carelessly, like he was skimming through a furniture catalogue in a waiting room.

Kevin was staring at the West Virginia guidebook with a worm in his mouth that made him look like he'd be ill. His skin paled under his deep southern tan, and the tattoo on his left cheek stood out a bold black. Neil had deduced from stunted conversations and meaningful silences that tip-toed around the Moriyamas that Kevin had some sort of bone deep fear of Riko. From a distance, the two had looked like inseparable partners. Brothers even. But something had happened right before or after Kevin came to the Foxes that morphed that intimacy into terror.

Neil wanted to ask Kevin about it, but the man couldn't stomach even hearing Riko's name. Now he was staring at the last state they'd been in together like he was seeing his own grave. Neil slouched down in his seat next to Andrew and whispered in German.

"Why is he so afraid? What is in West Virginia that's giving him that face?" Neil asked so the others couldn't hear. Andrew didn't answer. Neil huffed an annoyed breath.

"Fine, let's play our game again. I'll trade you for it," Neil said.

"It's not my truth to tell," Andrew replied in a bored voice.

"But Kevin won't tell me. And I need to know. You told me to help you keep him from falling apart before you reached Zone 1. I can't do that wearing a blindfold." Nicky was looking at them suspiciously so Neil angled himself away from the table. 

"Riko," Andrew answered. Riko was waiting for Kevin in West Virginia.

"But why? I thought they were like brothers when they played together for the Ravens?" Neil pushed.

Andrew ripped a corner of the North Carolina guide book and folded it over itself until it became a tight ball.

"Kevin's 'accident' was a brotherly love tap from Riko. Kevin was outgrowing this." Andrew tapped his left cheek. "And the King couldn't have that."

Neil couldn't believe it. Something so cruel. But Andrew wasn't lying. Neil looked at Kevin and saw the scars on his hand. They looked like a new demon mocking Kevin as he reached out to open the guidebook. Neil had seen his father do worse to men, but not to those loyal to him. Neil looked away.

"What do you want to know?" Neil braced himself. Andrew still didn't know most of Neil's own secrets.

"Not yet," Andrew said dismissively. He tossed the crumpled ball he'd made from the guidebook at Kevin's head. Kevin twitched and spun a poisonous glare Andrew's way.

"You're taking too long," Andrew told him, "Give me that one."

The Foxes had some free time after lunch. With their departure coming in quick on the horizon, their tasks around camp had lessened. As soon as the dishes were cleared and the Foxes dismissed, Matt pulled Neil aside so they could speak. Andrew paused in the doorway, looked back at Neil, and kept walking when Neil nodded him on.

 They waited for everyone else to leave the room except Dan who stood in front of Neil with a pensive expression. She worked the words around her mouth before she said them.

"You and Andrew," Dan started, "You're part of his group now."  
  
The Foxes were still divided down the middle. Most of the Foxes had rallied around Seth's death over the past month, but Andrew refused to budge and meet them halfway. And his family and Kevin wouldn't step anywhere without Andrew moving first. Neil wasn't sure exactly where he stood. He'd made a deal with Andrew, but he didn't isolate himself from the others as Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin did. Nicky tried to work with the others sometimes, too, but he was still fiercely obedient to Andrew's orders.  
  
"We can't make it through Zone 2 if we're not together. And they refuse to work with us. But." Dan and Matt shared a look.  
  
"But now we have an in," Matt finished for her. Neil caught what they were trying to say.  
  
"I'm not exactly a uniting force," Neil said, "Andrew won't listen to anyone. He does what he thinks he needs to do to protect his own."  
  
"But he trusts you," Dan said. Neil shook his head. Andrew didn't trust Neil. They had an understanding, and he knew Neil would keep his end of their deal. But Neil was pretty sure Andrew didn't trust anyone.   
  
"You've obviously got something Andrew wants," Matt said, "Where Andrew goes, they all go. You just have to pull him harder than he pulls you."  
  
"It's not that easy," Neil said.  
  
"No, it isn't. But we still need you to do it. Please, Neil. We won't survive out there if we don't have each other's backs," Dan said. Neil knew she was right.  
  
"I'll try," Neil conceded.  
  
"Good," Dan said, "And don't forget we're here for you, too. Andrew gets shit done, but his methods are...intense sometimes. You're a Fox now, Neil. Keep that in mind."  
  
Matt squeezed Neil's shoulder on their way out, and gave him one of his sunny grins. Neil looked down at the maps they'd spread out over the dining room table. He could trace their pathway north by memory. It looked so short compared to the entire coastline. Just a small line that stood between Neil and his father. A small line that was everything he had left with the Foxes. It was a strange thing, aching over people Neil hadn't yet lost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now the plot is moving forward. Thanks for reading!!! Hope it was worth the wait :D Please comment and let me know what you think! Sorry about Seth y'all.
> 
> Also, I made a tumblr a little while ago for aftg so I can interact with everyone more :D I'm working some other stories that I'll be posting soon in pieces on my tumblr as I write it (I probably won't post to ao3 until they're finished). If you're interested, you can find them/follow me here: ssundaye.tumblr.com . I'm still looking for people to follow on tumblr so hmu!


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